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190 Jack Fritscher

Ada: Terrific. I hate it.
Kweenie:

“Suddenly, this long here,
I no longer speed on the urgency of there.
Chameleons are...”

Ada: Stop!
Kweenie: You’ll make me forget.
Ada: You and Coleridge.
Kweenie: He was into opium.
Ada: He was also a poet. Let me squeeze this cotton over your
nose. Someone interrupted his composition of a poem. Hold
still. He never could finish it.
Kweenie: But I finished mine.
Ada: Like I said: he was a poet.
Kweenie: “Chameleons are adaptable.”
Ada: Move aside.
Kweenie:

“Chameleons will be here long after
the rest of life,
extinct,
has died of a bleeding ulcer.”
Ada: That’s it?
Kweenie: Far out, isn’t it?
Ada: Care for some tea?
Kweenie: I have some ginseng in my tote.
Ada: Thanks, dear, I’d as soon not swallow anything in your bag.
Kweenie: Don’t act superior. Just because your toilet seat is down.
Ada: (Very angry) You were forbidden ever to go upstairs!
Kweenie: You’ve broken Johnny, paper-trained him like a little
dog.
Ada: Ridiculous.
Kweenie: Signs and omens are everywhere.
Ada: When I was eleven, I connected a wire between two soup
cans. I could barely hear my best girl friend.
Kweenie: In the universe. In the cosmos. It’s all allegorical.... My
©Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights Reserved
HOW TO LEGALLY QUOTE FROM THIS BOOK