In those days, women wore anything that resembled something from a famous hand-tinted photograph from the nineteenth century. There was a free catalog available on the Internet, listing all the famous collections and the most famous photographs, organizing them by date or location, or photographer, painter, model - every criterion available - but especially by women's dress. The crinoline; the cage crinoline, dome and pyramid, flat in front; the crinolette; and the bustle were all represented in their various forms and colors. Even pornographic photographs were readily available to show off every type of undergarment. Famous women wore bloomers underneath their petticoats: the kind with an open crotch and single button, which made it much easier to have sex fully clothed, a favorite and celebrated pastime for the elites.

– Verse 18 from the chapter called Childhood

Oh, that Moochka was a lady alright: if you treated her well, she would treat you back. Your father had her wrapped around his little finger: he could whistle from a hundred meters - farther, if he were upwind - and she would come, like a dog. People were amazed; nobody else could do it: she wouldn't pay attention. When time for milking came around, your father would enter the cowshed, whistle, and Moochka would turn around. First, she would have to lick his hand. Then, he would give her a whole ear of corn, pat her on the head, and, most important of all, sweep her with a broom, from head to tail, right along her back, as gently as possible. Then, sidestepping, she was by the wall, ready for action.

– Verse 142 from the chapter called Childhood

Those days are over. What man keeps his own cow nowadays? Who's going to milk her? Sell her to the dairy farm; let the machines do it. Who's going to sell their own milk and cheese and butter? So many health regulations apply, only the biggest farmer can do it. The Sanitation Department would crush you. That's what they're there for: to protect the public health: to put small farming out of business. Sell your farms! Move to the city! Sleep with rats in your bed instead of your barn. "Don't you realize?" they say. "You can't live off your own land if you're not an agribusinessman! You need to go and be a clerk! File papers! Deal with people! Serve! Don't grow! (Please: we'll give you money not to grow.) Go to the city! Get a job! Manage a firm! Sell cars, rocks - I don't know. We need more cosmetics! More clothes! My shirt is dirty - make me a new one: something flashy, something new. Don't you understand? We don't have enough knick-knacks: go and make some. See if you can sell them! Good luck! We'll see you at the opera! What? You can't make it? What a shame! It's the best! It's culture! That's what we're here for: to make things and watch opera."

– Verse 144 from the chapter called Childhood

Personal design was key. A Capitalist would spend, at most, an hour for grooming, but his or her family might take an average of three hours for an average occasion, never less than two, and five at most (although seven was not unheard of - especially if Guderians were involved). The way you could tell was by counting the difference between a Capitalist's arrival and his or her family's. No Capitalist would ever wait for his or her family, no matter how quick they be and even if that family were his or her greatest pride. It was a great sign of disrespect among Capitalists if one of their kind were suddenly to arrive with his or her family. What would they do? Talk business? Look stupid? It was inconceivable. Families were always late in coming.

– Verse 20 from the chapter called Childhood