Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- Congratulations on the Nobel Prize! - Thanks, but...

That was before I read your book.

But soon. Don't worry about it. I'd appreciate your feedback.

What do you want?

How do you know my name?

Can I take this?

So, you're an honest man. Why beat yourself up about it?

My promise, worthless.

In flagrante delictum screwing a 13 year old girl named Susan.

Let yourself be taught. Show your appreciation for his guidance.

We've got to reinvent the publishing business for the electronic age.

I refuse to discriminate between modes of knowing.

When the time is right, I'll recommend he read your poem.

But you don't like it.

- Royalties? - 70/30 split.

He thinks I'm a slut.

- Yes. - As part of our deal?

But one of you...

They were throwing bottles at the house, you know.

- Give me an ultrasonograph. - Get to feed the monitor!

Bought some special stationery too. It's scented. Look.

or I won't let him publish my poem.

Is there something you want?

It made my daughter sing.

Did you throw up all over some girl?

So, just take a good look at one another one last time...

Yeah? Like what?

I don't know why you bother.

They're throwing bottles at your house.

...this divine fatigue, this... - Push over!

- I like him. - Give me a light.

Beast! Fiend! Rapist!

Take out some of the more inter-textual references...

Oh, yeah. Maybe not today. But tomorrow, probably.

Listen, father. Have you got any money?

I'll correct the spelling.

What happened to you?

I've let myself be caught in a bloody maul, banale necessity.

If you treat mom like a sick person...

and a story about some kids burning down the school near Boston.

So what? It's not so great.

We used to talk sometimes, in the elevator, in the mornings.

So, how is the digital revolution is going to help me sell books?

which, I admit...