Sybil Carpenter Quotes in A Perfect Day for Bananafish
“Sharon Lipschutz said you let her sit on the piano seat with you,” Sybil said.
“Sharon Lipschutz said that?”
Sybil nodded vigorously.
[…] “Well,” he said, “you know how those things happen, Sybil. I was sitting there, playing. And you were nowhere in sight. And Shorn Lipschutz came over and sat down next to me. I couldn’t push her off, could I?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, no. No. I couldn’t do that […] I’ll tell you what I did do, though.”
“What?”
“I pretended she was you.”
“Where do you live, anyway?”
“I don’t know, said Sybil.”
“Sure you know. You must know. Sharon Lipschutz knows where she lives and she’s only three and a half.”
Sybil stopped walking and yanked her hand away from him. She picked up an ordinary beach shell and looked at it with elaborate interest. She threw it down. “Whirly Wood, Connecticut,” she said […].
“Whirly Wood, Connecticut,” said the young man. “Is that anywhere near Whirly Wood, Connecticut, by any chance?”
Sybil looked at him. “That’s where I live,” she said impatiently. “I live in Whirly Wood, Connecticut.” […]
“You have no idea how clear that makes everything,” the young man said.
“Do you like wax?” Sybil asked.
“Do I like what?” asked the young man.
“Wax.”
“Very much. Don’t you?”
Sybil nodded. “Do you like olives?” she asked.
“Olives—yes. Olives and wax. I never go anyplace without ‘em.”
[…]
“I like to chew candles,” she said finally.
“Who doesn’t?” said the young man […].
“Their habits are very peculiar. Very peculiar. […] They lead a very tragic life.”
[…] “I just saw one.”
“Saw what, my love?”
“A bananafish.”
“My God, no!” said the young man. “Did he have any bananas in his mouth?”
“Yes,” Said Sybil. “Six.”
The young man suddenly picked up one of Sybil’s wet feet, which were drooping over the end of the float, and kissed the arch.
“Hey!” said the owner of the foot, turning around.
“Hey, yourself! We’re going in now. You had enough?”
“No!”
“Sorry,” he said, and pushed the float toward shore […].
Sybil Carpenter Quotes in A Perfect Day for Bananafish
“Sharon Lipschutz said you let her sit on the piano seat with you,” Sybil said.
“Sharon Lipschutz said that?”
Sybil nodded vigorously.
[…] “Well,” he said, “you know how those things happen, Sybil. I was sitting there, playing. And you were nowhere in sight. And Shorn Lipschutz came over and sat down next to me. I couldn’t push her off, could I?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, no. No. I couldn’t do that […] I’ll tell you what I did do, though.”
“What?”
“I pretended she was you.”
“Where do you live, anyway?”
“I don’t know, said Sybil.”
“Sure you know. You must know. Sharon Lipschutz knows where she lives and she’s only three and a half.”
Sybil stopped walking and yanked her hand away from him. She picked up an ordinary beach shell and looked at it with elaborate interest. She threw it down. “Whirly Wood, Connecticut,” she said […].
“Whirly Wood, Connecticut,” said the young man. “Is that anywhere near Whirly Wood, Connecticut, by any chance?”
Sybil looked at him. “That’s where I live,” she said impatiently. “I live in Whirly Wood, Connecticut.” […]
“You have no idea how clear that makes everything,” the young man said.
“Do you like wax?” Sybil asked.
“Do I like what?” asked the young man.
“Wax.”
“Very much. Don’t you?”
Sybil nodded. “Do you like olives?” she asked.
“Olives—yes. Olives and wax. I never go anyplace without ‘em.”
[…]
“I like to chew candles,” she said finally.
“Who doesn’t?” said the young man […].
“Their habits are very peculiar. Very peculiar. […] They lead a very tragic life.”
[…] “I just saw one.”
“Saw what, my love?”
“A bananafish.”
“My God, no!” said the young man. “Did he have any bananas in his mouth?”
“Yes,” Said Sybil. “Six.”
The young man suddenly picked up one of Sybil’s wet feet, which were drooping over the end of the float, and kissed the arch.
“Hey!” said the owner of the foot, turning around.
“Hey, yourself! We’re going in now. You had enough?”
“No!”
“Sorry,” he said, and pushed the float toward shore […].
