I’m wet! I’m wet! I’m hysterical and I’m wet!
I wet myself! [cries]
Are you crying? Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING? There’s no crying! THERE’S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!
But, son, you know, I’m just wondering… Maybe baseball isn’t exactly your thing, you know? Have you considered the chess team or the glee club?
The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It’s been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time.
The bureaucratic mentality is the only constant in the universe.
Now they got the whole country sectioned off, you can’t make a move without a form.
Here in Cloud Cuckooland there are no rules. There’s no government, no babysitters, no bedtimes, no frowny faces, no bushy mustaches and no negativity of any kind.
I was told that I could listen to the radio at a reasonable volume, from 9 to 11.
Why don’t you just make ten louder and make ten be the top number and make that a little louder?
These go to eleven.
I am going to count to three. There will not be a four.
Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out!
One, two, FIVE!
Three, sir!
Where did you learn how to count?!
The Count, the way he looked at Mina’s picture fills me with dread. As if I have a part to play in a story that is not known to me.
I know that a terrifying story like that coming from the mouth of a recognized authority figure could be traumatizing for kids like yourselves.
My baby! Are you traumatized? Did they do terrible things to you?
They eat screams. And drink pain.
What’s your prediction for the fight?
Pain.
To the pain.