A Confederacy of Dunces

by John Kennedy Toole

“I don’t drive. Will you kindly go away? I am waiting for my mother.”

“Is it the part of the police department to harass me when this city is a flagrant vice capital of the civilized world?”

“I dust a bit,” Ignatius told the policeman. “In addition, I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.”

“Thank God my moustache filters out some of the stench.

She had been listening to the story for three years.

Mrs. Reilly saw again the horrible, coffee-stained lumber jacket that she had always secretly wanted to give to the Volunteers of America along with several other pieces of Ignatius’ favorite clothing.

“Canned food is a perversion,” Ignatius said. “I suspect that it is ultimately very damaging to the soul.”

“I never eat canned food. I did once, and I could feel my intestines starting to atrophy.”

The United States needs some theology and geometry, some taste and decency.

“If you do not leave,” Ignatius said to Patrolman Mancuso, who was hooking on his beard, “I shall call the police.” “He is the police, stupid.”

“I don’t know what is happening to you, Mother, but I suspect that you are momentarily deranged.

You may remember that Mark Twain preferred to lie supinely in bed while composing those rather dated and boring efforts which contemporary scholars try to prove meaningful.

I suggest that you divert some of the monies that you are pouring into the liquor industry.”

“I am afraid to ask what your idea of ‘dressing up’ is. I will probably be turned into an utter mockery.”

“Employers sense in me a denial of their values.” He rolled over onto his back. “They fear me. I suspect that they can see that I am forced to function in a century which I loathe. That was true even when I worked for the New Orleans Public Library.”

“All you did was paste them little slips in the books.” “Yes, but I had my own aesthetic about pasting those slips.

Being actively engaged in the system which I criticize will be an interesting irony in itself.”

Do I appear to be in a condition that would attract prospective employers?

I am an anachronism.

‘Clean, hardworking, dependable, quiet type.’ Good God! What kind of monster is this that they want. I am afraid that I could never work for a concern with a worldview like that.”

After she had made one or two bold and unsolicited comments about my person and bearing, I drew Mr. Gonzalez aside to tell him that Gloria was planning to quit without notice at the end of the day.

I have come to the conclusion that our office manager serves no purpose other than one of obfuscation and hindrance.

I have never known anyone who would even venture to stick his toe in its polluted brown waters, which seethe with sewage, industrial waste, and deadly insecticides.

Sounds like the Detroit River

“My excellence confused them.”

I am at the moment unemployed and have been launched upon a quest for work. However, I might as well have had the Grail set as my goal.

I must go. I suspect that I have an appointment of some sort.”

“I will probably spend several years at the Eye, Ear, Nose, and Throat Hospital having this attended to,” Ignatius said, fingering his ear.

Never become involved in an altercation with a pauper.”

“Why don’t you run along and partake in some dubious recreation that appeals to you,”

“Where do you find the people that work in this place, Gonzalez? I never see people like this anywhere else.”

I don’t deal in small sums.”

“You can’t frighten me. I’ve already had my trauma for the day.”

“Good heavens! I’m in a hospital. Who is my doctor? I hope that you have been selfless enough to secure the services of a specialist. And a priest. Have one come. I’ll see whether he’s acceptable.”

Dr. Talc had had them both in separate classes one grim semester, during which they had disrupted his lectures with strange noises and impertinent, venomous questions that no one, aside from God, could possibly have answered.

“He resented my worldview rather actively.”

Just remember your poor momma’s got your welfare at heart.” “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Your new hairdo is fascinating and cosmopolitan.”