Protected by the MTA (the Martian Terrestrial Authority, which was created for the purpose), the nuclear bomb was successfully transported. In the meantime, in cooperation with Panzer-Tank Mining, Yariba Corporation dug a deep tunnel into the base of Olympus Mons, the largest volcano in the solar system. It's twenty-seven kilometers high! Five hundred and forty kilometers wide! I'm sure you've noticed it. They put the nuclear bomb inside the tunnel and off it went, clearing the most enormous cavern ever made. They drilled holes through the top. They drilled holes through the sides. They laid pipes. They brought water and boiled it. The steam went through the steam turbines, rose to the very top and fell back down again, going through the water turbines on the way back down to the boiler - a gigantic operation. A simple operation! A Martian child could appreciate its magnificent beauty, and, not having to wonder whence that blessed power comes, can look outside his northern window and see that brilliant topographical majesty that gives him light. Blessed Olympus! How young those Martians are when they first learn to fear her power! Give them light, Olympus! Not tyranny! Not shadow and pain! Give them light!

– Verse 8 from the chapter called Childhood

Those were not laughing days, child. In those days, there was much hardship. Sixty-eight years before I was born, Yellowstone exploded. Five thousand cubic kilometers of boiling magma came to blanket the Earth, kill mankind, terrorize his animals, and fell his favorite trees. Earth bled, and the sky grew dark. It rained blackness. The whole planet stank like a struck match: burning brimstone, like the Bible says - in other words, black clouds of sulfur: they came to suffocate, incinerate. In faraway places, water turned to steam: it boiled. Volcanic ash came tumbling down. The wind blew steam and hot rock. Millions died; the rest wept black tears.

– Verse 72 from the chapter called Childhood

That night, Jesus and Zoe almost made love. Getting into bed, Jesus kissed her on the mouth. Zoe went wild. Rolling around, they kissed, pushed, pulled, hugged and squeezed. Zoe removed Jesus's clothes. She saw the tattooed Christogram upon his chest. She was sitting astride Jesus's waist. Pulling up her shirt, Jesus brought her back to attention. She removed it: she removed her shirt! and her bra and pulled Jesus up against her chest. Squeezing tightly, Jesus smelled the beautiful strength upon her breasts and kissed them. He pushed her down to the side of the bed and she spread her legs. Jesus mounted her and he was ready to do it, but there was too much: too much whirling around in his head: too much at stake: his destiny, his word, Zeus on Mars, and this half-Martian, half-Japanese creature in his bed, waiting to be fucked! Something was wrong. Jesus wanted her. He wanted to love this woman but not now: not here: not like this. This would have to wait. Jesus was quickly losing steam. The thought that Zoe must have prepared for this - must be taking contraceptives (there was no way she was looking to conceive) - was the occasion that finally prompted Jesus to cease rubbing himself up and down your mother's wet and fully engorged vulva.

– Verse 781 from the chapter called Security

I know the lure of success. I feel the pressures of domination. That farmer who sows rye in every field is not a victim. Nor is he some kind of scab. He is a player in a game with no teams, and he deserves no one's pity or awe or respect any more than the rest of us do. Your father always had to win. He would go and cry if he lost - every time. Once, your great-grandfather held a race for the boys and girls. Jesus was distracted for some reason; he missed the starting gun. His first reaction, unfortunately, was to complain. Realizing that the race had already started and wasn't going to be stopped, Jesus went for it. He went as fast as a young boy could, just so he wouldn't have to bear the shame of coming in dead last. He was beaten by a girl. She received first prize and Jesus received second. He was infuriated. Second prize was obviously inferior - too inferior. First prize was an electronic game system. Second prize was a fancy pencil sharpener. Jesus went and cried, not realizing that the prizes were personal: they were designated. Nor did he realize that the girl's family was rich, and his family was, in comparison, very poor.

– Verse 150 from the chapter called Childhood

In those days, hooliganism ruled the streets. Boys from broken homes, with unemployed, alcoholic fathers, or single mothers with four other kids to feed, found solace in groups of young men who shaved their heads and pretended that football was life. They chanted songs that nobody else knew. They broke windows for fun. Their favorite motto was 'cock in your ass.' They didn't care much for anyone who wasn't on their local football team. They hated them when they lost. Then again, either victory or defeat was their excuse for massive amounts of drinking and violence. They didn't care much about football. They collected weapons. They dug holes in the ground and threw their weapons inside. They were like mangy dogs, marking their territory with paint. HOOL'S they wrote on the walls. And, if you were lucky, they just wanted to rob you: most of the time, they would hold you down and beat you senseless for no reason. They were unemployed. They were there to terrorize the neighborhood; they made it their job to hunt down Jews and kill faggots.

– Verse 314 from the chapter called Adolescence