The party rumbled on like a Hay Wain (as someone in the middle of it pointed out), carrying its cargo of fools towards the hour of their release. A lady lawyer spoke long sentences about international law as regards defacing the moon, and to each the cryogenics man nodded and smiled. The girl in the snood claimed that Thomas M. Disch was the author of a novel called Concentration Camp. Other girls, in leather bikinis, glass crinolines, wooded mail, foil tartans and plastic pinafores behaved as slightly animated decorations, receiving each conversation item with the same graceful indifference with which chair cushions received buttocks of all shapes. News, gossip, complements, pedantry, wit and philosophy, all were rested on them briefly and then removed, leaving no impression.
- Johgn Sladek, The Müller-Fokker Effect, p.219 in SF Gateway Omnibus
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