“Kicking a police car? Really?' Caleb shrugged. 'Car offended me. It was sitting right where I wanted to stand. What would you do?”

“I want tell you about the town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts, where this happened here, they got three stop signs, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to the scene of the crime, there was five police officers and three police cars, being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to get in the newspaper story about it.”

“Why on earth would you buy a car like this if you can't drive a stick? There are dozens of cars--new cars--that have automatic transmission. It'd be a million times easier."
Adrian shrugged. "I like the color. It matches my living room.”

“If you want to get hit by a car, stand in the road.”

“Death is like my car. It takes me where I want to go.”

“I thought you might need a ride.'

'The headmaster's office called me a car.'

He shrugged, indifferent but amused. 'And here I am in a submarine.”

“My wife told me the car wasn't running well. There was water in the carburetor. I asked where the car was, and she told me it was in the lake.”

“You want me to do what? What part of stupid crawled up your sphincter and died?” – Caleb”

“I don't see white police officers slamming the heads of little white boys into police cars.”

“We’re told cars are dangerous. It’s safer to drive through South Central Los Angeles than to walk there. We’re told cars are wasteful. Wasteful of what? Oil did a lot of good sitting in the ground for millions of years. We’re told cars should be replaced with mass transportation. But it’s hard to reach the drive-through window at McDonald’s from a speeding train. And we’re told cars cause pollution. A hundred years ago city streets were ankle deep in horse excrement. What kind of pollution do you want? Would you rather die of cancer at eighty or typhoid fever at nine?”