" ...
    'How old is he?' the policeman asked Mrs. Reilly.
    'I am thirty,' Ignatius said condescendingly.
    'You got a job?'
    'Ignatius hasta help me at home,' Mrs. Reilly said. Her initial courage was failing a little, and she began to twist the lute string with the cord on the cake boxes. 'I got terrible arthuritis.'
    'I dust a bit,' Ignatius told the policeman. 'In addition, I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.'
... "

― John Kennedy Toole , A Confederacy of Dunces