# Only Begotten Daughter

- Author: [James Morrow](https://www.leafyquotes.com/james-morrow.md)
- Quotes: 36
- Book page: https://www.leafyquotes.com/james-morrow/only-begotten-daughter

## Quotes

> I think you’re so full of shit you’ve got roses growing out of your ass.

p. 96

> “Myriad contradictory worlds,” lectured Professor Jerome Delacato, “forever splitting off from each other like branches on a tree, so that, somewhere out there, I am presently giving a lecture explaining how the many-worlds hypothesis cannot possibly be true.”

p. 88

> The Sermon on the Mount—it never ends for you, does it? If somebody kicks your right buttock, turn the other cheek.

p. 260

> You wouldn’t like him. Major fanatic. Confuses migraine headaches with God.

p. 84

> What most people don’t realize is that something unprecedented has entered the world. Bang—science—and suddenly a proposition is true because it’s true, Julie, not because its adherents have the biggest churches or the grandest inquisitors or the most weeks on The New York Times bestseller list.

p. 88

> He was a devout believer in the second chance. To the man who asked, “What’s the point of closing the barn door after the horse has been stolen?” Murray would answer, “The point is that the door is now closed.”

p. 12

> “The universe,” says Wyvern, “is a Ph. D. thesis that God was unable to successfully defend.”

p. 221

> “You see God as an engineer?” asked Urpastor Phelps.
>
> “I don’t see God as anything at all.”
>
> “An engineer, you said. An incompetent engineer.”
>
> “Incompetent, perfect, who knows? God is whatever we agree to pretend God is. God is our image of God.”

p. 272

> He smiled. Julie’s wedding, exquisite thought. Would his grandchildren be free of godhead? Was divinity a recessive trait?

p. 92

> —Then there is the final possibility, my favorite.
>
> —Yes?
>
> —The final possibility is that I’m God.
>
> —You’re God?
>
> —Just a theory, but the data are provocative. I mean, look at me. Faceless, shapeless, holey, undifferentiated, Jewish, inscrutable...and a hermaphrodite to boot. Years ago, I told you sponges cannot be fatally dismembered, for each part quickly becomes the whole. To wit, I am both immortal and infinite.
>
> —You’re God? You’re God herself? You?
>
> —The data are provocative.
>
> —God is a sponge? A sponge? There’s not much comfort in that.
>
> —Agreed.
>
> —Sponges can’t help us.
>
> —Neither can God, as far as I can tell. I’d be happy to see some contrary data.

p. 312

> Better a citizen in hell than a slave in New Jersey.

p. 162

> She asked, “Do you believe science has all the answers?”
>
> “Huh?”
>
> “Science. Does it have all the answers?”
>
> “Everybody thinks he’s being oh-so-deep when he says science doesn’t have all the answers.”
>
> Done. All of it. Virginity gone, flesh ratified, mother spited, mission discovered—the gospel of empirical truth! Yes! Oh, yes!
>
> “Science does have all the answers,” said Howard, withdrawing. “The problem is that we don’t have all the science.”

p. 90

> “Pop, do we have heaven?” he’d asked on the day he discovered the (dead) cat. “You want to know a Jew’s idea of heaven?” his father had replied, looking up from his Maimonides. “It’s an endless succession of long winter nights on which we get paid a fair wage to sit in a warm room and read all the books ever written...Not just the famous ones, no, every book, the stuff nobody gets around to reading, forgotten plays, novels by people you never heard of. However, I profoundly doubt such a place exists.”

p. 13

> The wonders of nature, she learned, from wing of bee to sonar of bat to eyeball of baby, were not so much perfect machines as adequate contraptions. If nature bespoke a mind, it was a confused and inchoate one, a mind incapable of locating the optic nerve on the correct side of the retina, a mind unable to accomplish much of anything without resort to jerry-building and extinction.

p. 254

> There are none so blind as those who see angels...None so deaf as those who hear gods.

p. 288

> Murray held his daughter at arm’s length. “Does God...er, visit you?”
>
> “She doesn’t even whisper to me. I listen, but she doesn’t talk. It’s not fair.”
>
> God didn’t talk. The best news he’d heard since Gabriel Frostig announced his embryo. “Look Julie, it’s good she doesn’t talk. God asks her children to do crazy things. It’s good she doesn’t whisper. Understand?”
>
> “I guess.”
>
> “Really?”
>
> “Uh-huh. Where’d the crab go? Is he looking for his friends?”
>
> A profound weariness pressed upon Murray. “Yes. Right. His friends. It’s good God doesn’t whisper.”

p. 46

> Babies are like kittens, Julie, they grow into something much more sinister.

p. 258

> Her libido blazed to life. She smiled, impressed by the party-crashing shamelessness of sex, its willingness to show up anywhere—a funeral, a sermon, a final farewell. This was the way to go out, all right, thumbing your labia at the cosmos.

p. 285

> “Right before bed, I spend twenty minutes in this place. Then I can sleep.”
>
> “You mean you simply sit here, staring at everybody’s pain? All you do is look at it?”
>
> “Uh-huh. Just like God.”

p. 74

> “You’re not very religious, are you?” said Irene.
>
> “I’m more into gravity.”

p. 256

> Hell was not perfect, but it was paradise compared with New Jersey.

p. 174

> “There’s something else, Beverly. I’m a minister of the Lord. This will be unusual for me, a kind of experiment.”
>
> “I know all about it, Reverend. You folks do more experimenting than Princeton’s entire physics department.”

p. 66

> As with the rest of Phoebe’s species, Julie must not let her become dependent upon supernatural solutions, trading one addiction for another.

p. 133

> The man was fat. His belly arrived like an advance guard, heralding the bulk to come, huge shoulders, a surplus chin. His white cassock had settled over his body like a tarpaulin dropped on a blimp.

p. 214

> When a species fixates on the supernatural, it ceases to mature.

p. 118

> Although Bix Constantine disbelieved in hell as intensely as he did in heaven, he knew what the place would be like. Hell, for Bix, was jealousy. It was failed journalists seeing their enemies receive Pulitzer Prizes. It was compulsive gamblers seeing jackpots gush from adjacent players’ slot machines and sex-starved young men seeing their friends piled high with naked cheerleaders.

p. 144

> “I’ve been good, I’ve been bad—nothing gets her attention. What am I supposed to do, sacrifice a goat?”
>
> “Perhaps you should start a religion. You know—reveal your mother to the world.”
>
> “How can I reveal her when I don’t know what she’s like?”
>
> “Use your imagination. Everybody else does.”

p. 84

> “I’m really interested in this stuff.” Julie rubbed a carton labeled ELEMENTARY PARTICLES.
>
> “Physics?”
>
> “Physics, biology, stars, everything.”
>
> Howard said, “Good for you. These days most people prefer to impoverish their minds with mysticism.”

p. 87

> People are always asking, does God exist? Of course she does. The real question: what is she like?

p. 69

> “Actually, the answer’s quite simple.” Two red eyes floated in the mist.
>
> “Really? Tell me. Why does God allow evil?”
>
> The red eyes vanished, leaving only the lantern and the night. “Because power corrupts,” said Wyvern’s disembodied voice. “And absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

p. 85

> The problem is, only a few people get to be scientists. You see the dilemma? Given the choice between a truth they can appreciate and a lie they can live, most people will take you-know-what.

p. 138

> I can’t help suggesting that a God who communicates through leukemia is at best deranged.

p. 116

> What good is it having God for a mother if she never sends you a birthday card?

p. 50

> What enormous potential for intermittent happiness the world offered.

p. 37

> The labels fascinated Julie—Cutty Sark, Dewar’s, Beefeater—each logo dense with staid print and Anglo-Saxon dignity, as if alcohol were really a type of literary criticism and not a leading cause of traffic fatalities and brain rot.

p. 77

> “Don’t believe everything you hear about hell. Next time you run into some anti-hell propaganda, consider the source.”
>
> “You inflict eternal punishment on people,” Julie countered.
>
> “Merely because it’s our job. And remember, we persecute only the guilty, which puts us one up on most other institutions.”

p. 162