Цитаты из книги Lost Lambs

The disobedience of banality.

Bud could not pinpoint when their yeses became noes—or worse, I guesses, maybes, whatevers—when passion gave way to indifference.

He sat down on a ruddy barstool. A woman in her fifties with bitten nails raised an eyebrow in lieu of taking his order.

"Anything," said Bud.

"We're all out of Anything," said the bartender.

"What are we having?"

"Wine?"

"I don't keep wine. Wine is too expensive from a caloric perspective."

Abigail didn't pity her mother at all. She was struck-like many before her and many since-with the realization that her mother hadn't failed, hadn't given up on her dreams of being an artist and a bohemian, of leaving the town for a bigger lite. She'd stayed for her-Abigail, and subsequently for her sisters-to be a parent. Abigail believed this was more commendable than the pursuit of an art practice. She had as big a life as any.

Louise Flynn was having a crisis of faith.

"I am having a crisis of faith," she told the child psychiatrist.

- Why did you make all those things up?

- I would say I'm incredibly, painfully, mythically bored.

- I see. The disobedience of banality

- I am a victim of neglect