Any hope that America would finally grow up vanished with the rise of fundamentalist Christianity. Fundamentalism, with its born-again regression, its pink-and-gold concept of heaven, its literal-mindedness, its rambunctious good cheer... its anti-intellectualism... its puerile hymns... and its faith-healing... are… — Florence King Copy Share Image
America is not a democracy, it's an absolute monarchy ruled by King Kid. In a nation of immigrants, the child is automatically more of an American than his parents. Americans regard children as what Mr. Hudson in Upstairs, Downstairs called… — Florence King Copy Share Image
“Feminists will not be satisfied until every abortion is performed by a gay black doctor under an endangered tree on a reservation for handicapped… — Florence King Copy Share Image
People are so busy dreaming the American Dream, fantasizing about what they could be or have a right to be, that they're all asleep… — Florence King Copy Share Image
In its purest sense, nicknaming is an elitist ritual practiced by those who cherish hierarchy. For preppies it's a smoke signal that allows Bunny… — Florence King Copy Share Image
In the last few years, race relations in America have entered upon a period of intensified craziness wherein fear of being called a racist… — Florence King Copy Share Image
He travels fastest who travels alone, and that goes double for she. Real feminism is spinsterhood. — Florence King Copy Share Image
to a Southerner it is faux pas, not sins, that matter in this world. — Florence King Copy Share Image
If you ever meet someone who cannot understand why solitary confinement is considered punishment, you have met a misanthrope. — Florence King Copy Share Image
No matter which sex I went to bed with, I never smoked on the street — Florence King Copy Share Image
Hereditary monarchy offers numerous advantages for America. It is the only form of government able to unify a heterogeneous people. Thanks to centuries of… — Florence King Copy Share Image
Resistance to team play seemed to pour like wet cement through my bones, displacing supple marrow, until I was ballasted with my own contempt. — Florence King Copy Share Image
