Episode Fifteen: "Grooving Around in a Trench Coat With a Saturnine Trail"

MARY: The Chicago Tribune says Jerry Falwell was "an influential man with a booming voice and a penchant for provocative statements."

RHODA: So was Goebbels.

MARY: Where's Falwell now, Rhoda?

RHODA: The Fiery Trench. The Putrid Swamp. The Plain of Razor-Sharp Knives.

MARY: The Uncrossable Torrent?

RHODA: Sliding naked down a razor blade into a salt-and-vinegar pond.

MARY: Suppose you kill a mosquito between your fingernails.

RHODA: Later in hell you will be killed by being crushed between two mountains that look like fingernails.

MARY: I slept on the rug in front of the bookshelf until the thunder came. Then I slept under the bed. One of the dogs upstairs barked.

EZRA POUND: He lay there on the floor of the chapel on a great piece of patterned brocade. And the walls solid gold about him. And there was a hole in one of his socks. And a cat sat there licking himself.

RHODA: You say, "God loves you -- come and buy the good news!" Then you buy the president and swimming pools!

POUND: Splash wakes the chap on the wood-barge. A wet cat gleaming in patches.