James K. Morrow

"“Talo, it would appear that our sons are growing up.” She tut-tutted in mock solemnity. “And we always said, ‘It can’t happen here.’”"

"Naturally you expect the moral thing from me. But I’ve learned something, friend. Morals don’t count for a hell of a lot in this galaxy. I rank them somewhere between straight teeth and the ability to carry a tune."

"“What do you want out of life, Francis Lostwax?” Francis smiled. “To never hurt anybody again.” His lack of hesitation surprised him. “To feel clean.”"

"Gravestones, he knew, were educational media, teaching that life has limits: don’t set your sights too high."

"Now we’re getting somewhere, George told himself, although he sensed that this situation would not endure."

"Curse God, and die. To George it seemed like remarkably sage and relevant advice."

"Maybe I’ll end up on the fun side of her pants some day."

"“You want a motive, William? I’ve got a motive. Vengeance may not be a pretty word, but it’s what’s expected of us.” “Right!” said Sverre. “We owe it to all those millions of dead people to make more millions of dead people. Be careful how you rewrite strategic doctrine, General, or you’ll come out of this war without a single medal.”"

"For moral reasons, the young Reverend Peter Sparrow declined to join the Saturday night gatherings of the Erebus Poker Club. Gambling, he knew, was Satan’s third favorite pastime, after sex and ecumenicalism."

"“In the end Humankind destroyed the heaven and the earth,” Soapstone began... “And Humankind said, ‘Let there be security,’ and there was security. And Humankind tested the security, that it would detonate. And Humankind divided the U-235 from the U-238. And the evening and the morning were the first strike.” Soapstone looked up from the book. “Some commentators feel that the author should have inserted, ‘And Humankind saw the security, that it was evil.’ Others point out that such a view was not universally shared.”... Casting his eyes heavenward, Soapstone continued. “And Humankind said, ‘Let there be a holocaust in the midst of the dry land.’ And Humankind poisoned the aquifers that were below the dry land and scorched the ozone that was above the dry land. And the evening and the morning were the second strike.”... “And Humankind said, ‘Let the ultraviolet light destroy the food chains that bring forth the moving creature!’ And the evening and the morning—”... “And Humankind said, ‘Let there be rays in the firmament to fall upon the survivors!’ And Humankind made two great rays, the greater gamma radiation to give penetrating whole-body doses, and the lesser beta radiation to burn the plants and the bowels of animals! And Humankind sterilized each living creature, saying, ‘Be fruitless, and barren, and cease to—’”"

"The fission bomb was a costly mistress. Consider, your Honors. In 1979 this planet celebrated the International Year of the Child. Of the one hundred and twenty-two million children born that year, one of every ten was dead by 1982, and most died for lack of inexpensive food and vaccines. Yet in 1982 the world spent one trillion dollars on weapons. One trillion dollars!"

"“It must have been hard converting your elders in the Pentagon to this view.” “Ever try stuffing a melted marshmallow up a wildcat’s ass? It can be done, but you have to like your job.”"

"Be sure to convict that chucklehead. He thinks a country’s Christianity is measured by the size of its thermonuclear arsenal."

"To George, Overwhite still seemed like a windbag, but he was obviously a resourceful and intelligent one, a windbag woven of the finest material."

"“Are we innately aggressive?” asked Aquinas. “Was the nuclear predicament symptomatic of a more profound depravity? Nobody knows. But if this is so—and I suspect that it is—then the responsibility for what we are pleased to call our inhumanity still rests squarely in our blood-soaked hands. The killer-ape hypothesis does not specify a fate—it lays out an agenda. Beware, the fable warns. Caution. Trouble ahead. Genocidal weapons in the hands of creatures who are bored by peace.” “I think I’m going to throw up,” said Brat. “But the fable went unheeded. And the weapons, unchecked. And then, one cold Christmas season, death came to an admirable species—a species that wrote symphonies and sired Leonardo da Vinci and would have gone to the stars. It did not have to be this way. Three virtues only were needed—creative diplomacy, technical ingenuity, and moral outrage. But the greatest of these is moral outrage.”"

"He was a devout believer in the second chance. To the man who asked, “What’s the point of closing the barn door after the horse has been stolen?” Murray would answer, “The point is that the door is now closed.”"

"“Pop, do we have heaven?” he’d asked on the day he discovered the (dead) cat. “You want to know a Jew’s idea of heaven?” his father had replied, looking up from his Maimonides. “It’s an endless succession of long winter nights on which we get paid a fair wage to sit in a warm room and read all the books ever written...Not just the famous ones, no, every book, the stuff nobody gets around to reading, forgotten plays, novels by people you never heard of. However, I profoundly doubt such a place exists.”"

"What enormous potential for intermittent happiness the world offered."

"Murray held his daughter at arm’s length. “Does God...er, visit you?” “She doesn’t even whisper to me. I listen, but she doesn’t talk. It’s not fair.” God didn’t talk. The best news he’d heard since Gabriel Frostig announced his embryo. “Look Julie, it’s good she doesn’t talk. God asks her children to do crazy things. It’s good she doesn’t whisper. Understand?” “I guess.” “Really?” “Uh-huh. Where’d the crab go? Is he looking for his friends?” A profound weariness pressed upon Murray. “Yes. Right. His friends. It’s good God doesn’t whisper.”"

"What good is it having God for a mother if she never sends you a birthday card?"

"“There’s something else, Beverly. I’m a minister of the Lord. This will be unusual for me, a kind of experiment.” “I know all about it, Reverend. You folks do more experimenting than Princeton’s entire physics department.”"

"People are always asking, does God exist? Of course she does. The real question: what is she like?"

"“Right before bed, I spend twenty minutes in this place. Then I can sleep.” “You mean you simply sit here, staring at everybody’s pain? All you do is look at it?” “Uh-huh. Just like God.”"

"The labels fascinated Julie—Cutty Sark, Dewar’s, Beefeater—each logo dense with staid print and Anglo-Saxon dignity, as if alcohol were really a type of literary criticism and not a leading cause of traffic fatalities and brain rot."

"“I’ve been good, I’ve been bad—nothing gets her attention. What am I supposed to do, sacrifice a goat?” “Perhaps you should start a religion. You know—reveal your mother to the world.” “How can I reveal her when I don’t know what she’s like?” “Use your imagination. Everybody else does.”"

"You wouldn’t like him. Major fanatic. Confuses migraine headaches with God."

"“Actually, the answer’s quite simple.” Two red eyes floated in the mist. “Really? Tell me. Why does God allow evil?” The red eyes vanished, leaving only the lantern and the night. “Because power corrupts,” said Wyvern’s disembodied voice. “And absolute power corrupts absolutely.”"

"“I’m really interested in this stuff.” Julie rubbed a carton labeled ELEMENTARY PARTICLES. “Physics?” “Physics, biology, stars, everything.” Howard said, “Good for you. These days most people prefer to impoverish their minds with mysticism.”"

"“Myriad contradictory worlds,” lectured Professor Jerome Delacato, “forever splitting off from each other like branches on a tree, so that, somewhere out there, I am presently giving a lecture explaining how the many-worlds hypothesis cannot possibly be true.”"

"What most people don’t realize is that something unprecedented has entered the world. Bang—science—and suddenly a proposition is true because it’s true, Julie, not because its adherents have the biggest churches or the grandest inquisitors or the most weeks on The New York Times bestseller list."

"She asked, “Do you believe science has all the answers?” “Huh?” “Science. Does it have all the answers?” “Everybody thinks he’s being oh-so-deep when he says science doesn’t have all the answers.” Done. All of it. Virginity gone, flesh ratified, mother spited, mission discovered—the gospel of empirical truth! Yes! Oh, yes! “Science does have all the answers,” said Howard, withdrawing. “The problem is that we don’t have all the science.”"

"He smiled. Julie’s wedding, exquisite thought. Would his grandchildren be free of godhead? Was divinity a recessive trait?"

"I think you’re so full of shit you’ve got roses growing out of your ass."

"I can’t help suggesting that a God who communicates through leukemia is at best deranged."

"When a species fixates on the supernatural, it ceases to mature."

"As with the rest of Phoebe’s species, Julie must not let her become dependent upon supernatural solutions, trading one addiction for another."

"The problem is, only a few people get to be scientists. You see the dilemma? Given the choice between a truth they can appreciate and a lie they can live, most people will take you-know-what."

"Although Bix Constantine disbelieved in hell as intensely as he did in heaven, he knew what the place would be like. Hell, for Bix, was jealousy. It was failed journalists seeing their enemies receive Pulitzer Prizes. It was compulsive gamblers seeing jackpots gush from adjacent players’ slot machines and sex-starved young men seeing their friends piled high with naked cheerleaders."

"Better a citizen in hell than a slave in New Jersey."

"“Don’t believe everything you hear about hell. Next time you run into some anti-hell propaganda, consider the source.” “You inflict eternal punishment on people,” Julie countered. “Merely because it’s our job. And remember, we persecute only the guilty, which puts us one up on most other institutions.”"

"Hell was not perfect, but it was paradise compared with New Jersey."

"The man was fat. His belly arrived like an advance guard, heralding the bulk to come, huge shoulders, a surplus chin. His white cassock had settled over his body like a tarpaulin dropped on a blimp."

"“The universe,” says Wyvern, “is a Ph. D. thesis that God was unable to successfully defend.”"

"The wonders of nature, she learned, from wing of bee to sonar of bat to eyeball of baby, were not so much perfect machines as adequate contraptions. If nature bespoke a mind, it was a confused and inchoate one, a mind incapable of locating the optic nerve on the correct side of the retina, a mind unable to accomplish much of anything without resort to jerry-building and extinction."

"“You’re not very religious, are you?” said Irene. “I’m more into gravity.”"

"Babies are like kittens, Julie, they grow into something much more sinister."

"The Sermon on the Mount—it never ends for you, does it? If somebody kicks your right buttock, turn the other cheek."

"“You see God as an engineer?” asked Urpastor Phelps. “I don’t see God as anything at all.” “An engineer, you said. An incompetent engineer.” “Incompetent, perfect, who knows? God is whatever we agree to pretend God is. God is our image of God.”"

"Her libido blazed to life. She smiled, impressed by the party-crashing shamelessness of sex, its willingness to show up anywhere—a funeral, a sermon, a final farewell. This was the way to go out, all right, thumbing your labia at the cosmos."

"There are none so blind as those who see angels...None so deaf as those who hear gods."