“This is not a good time, Miss Implant." Roman felt Jean-Luc jabbing him in the back with his walking stick. "Uh, Porky. No, I mean--" Damn, what the hell was her name?”

“It felt very good to have him walking beside her. Good like rest and quiet, like something you could live without but you needed anyway. That you had to learn how to miss, and then you'd never stop missing it.”

“Someone like Jean-Luc Godard is for me intellectual counterfeit money when compared to a good kung fu film.”

“Her voice was like a line from an old black-and-white Jean-Luc Godard movie, filtering in just beyond the frame of my consciousness.”

“Nah. I got it. Just try not to stake Jean-Luc again if you meet up with him. (Acheron)
I can’t help it. All you fanged people look alike in the dark. (Tabitha)
Yeah. I know what you mean. All you soul-full people look alike to us, too. (Acheron)”

“… there remained a strange formality between them, and her pleasure in his presence felt too much like missing him had felt during the last week.”

“Hasta la victoria siempre! Never forget! And let anthropomorphized kiwis puke evil provitamins on Jean-Luc Picard!”

“She rested her head against his and felt, for the first time, what she would often feel with him: a self-affection. He made her like herself.”

“"Yisgadal, veyiskadash, shmey raba… May His name be celebrated and sanctified…" whispered my father.
For the first time, I felt anger rising within me. Why should I sanctify His name? The Almighty, the eternal and terrible Master of the Universe, chose to be silent. What was there to thank Him for?”

“I will call no being good who is not what I mean when I apply that epithet to my fellow creatures; and if such a creature can sentence me to hell for not so calling him, to hell I will go.”