“Where is he? I don’t see any idealist.”
“Where is he? I don’t see any idealist.” Mr. Levy indicated the stricken cow in the street. “That’s him? In the gutter? This is tragic. Carousing, drunken, hopless, already a bloated derilict. Mark him down next to Miss Trixie and me as another life you’ve wrecked.” — John Kennedy Toole, “A Confederacy of Dunces”
