Barbara Kingsolver. Harper Perennial, 1988
The way I see it, she said, a person isn’t nothing more than a scarecrow. You, me, Earl Wickentot, the President of the United States, and even God Almighty, as far as I can see. The only difference between one that stands up good and one that blows over is what kind of stick they’re stuck up there on.
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There was this kind of person who lived downtown full time, not in the Republic but in the bus station or on the sidewalk around the Red Cross plasma center. These people slept in their clothes. I know that living in the Republic only put me a few flights above such people, but at least I did sleep in pyjamas.
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the Books that Bind 