I bet you cook good, huh?" Darlene asked. "Mother doesn't cook," Ignatius said dogmatically. "She burns. — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
“Myrna was not astigmatic; the lenses were clear glass; she wore the glasses to prove her dedication and intensity of purpose.” — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
“She ran into the bathroom and powdered her face and the front of her dress, drew a surrealistic version of a mouth beneath her… — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
“Is it the part of the police department to harass me when this city is a flagrant vice capital of the civilized world?" Ignatius… — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
employers sense in me a denial of their values...they fear me. i suspect that they can see that i am forced to function in… — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
Between notes, he had contemplated means of destroying Myrna Minkoff but had reached no satisfactory conclusion. His most promising scheme had involved getting a… — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
“I suspect that beneath your offensively and vulgarly effeminate façade there may be a soul of sorts. Have you read widely in Boethius?" "Who?… — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make… — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
“In my private apocalypse he will be impaled upon his own nightstick.” — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
Psycho? The woman's senile. We had to stop at about thirty gas stations on the way over here. Finally I got tired of getting… — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
I mingle with my peers or no one, and since I have no peers, I mingle with no one. — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
“Hey! All you peoples draggin along here. Stop and come stick your ass on a Night of Joy stool," he started again. "Night of… — John Kennedy Toole Copy Share Image
