"You ought to go to a boys' school sometime. But you could tell she wanted me to change the damn subject. You're the only reason I'm around, practically." If you weren't around, I'd probably be someplace way the hell off. You're probably the only reason I'm in New York right now, or anywhere.
"I don't know what you're even talking about," old Sally said. A horse is at least human, for God's sake. They worry if they get a little scratch on them, and they're always talking about how many miles they get to a gallon, and if they get a brand-new car already they start thinking about trading it in for one that's even newer. "Take most people, they're crazy about cars. Which was very funny, because I wasn't even shouting. Taxicabs, and Madison Avenue buses, with the drivers and all always yelling at you to get out at the rear door, and being introduced to phony guys that call the Lunts angels, and going up and down in elevators when you just want to go outside, and guys fitting your pants all the time at Brooks, and people always-" "I mean do you hate it? I know it's a terrific bore, but do you hate it, is what I mean." "I mean did you ever get scared that everything was going to go lousy unless you did something? I mean do you like school and all that stuff?" And even if I could, I'm not sure I'd feel like it.“Did you ever get fed up?" I said. I mean you'd be different in some way-I can't explain what I mean. Or you'd just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them. Or you'd heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you'd have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or the kid that was your partner in line the last time had got scarlet fever and you'd have a new partner. Not that you'd be so much older or anything. The only thing that would be different would be you. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and they're pretty, skinny legs, and that squaw with the naked bosom would still be weaving that same blanket.
The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was.
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