"No, it's not Thurston's Disease. It's that pipe. It's rancid."
"It helps me think," Kramer said.
"You could try cigarettes--or candy," she suggested.
"I'd rather smoke a pipe."
"There's cancer of the lip and tongue," she said helpfully.
"Don't quote Ochsner. I don't agree with him. And besides, you smoke
cigarettes, which are infinitely worse."
"Only four or five a day. I don't saturate my system with nicotine."
"In another generation," Kramer observed, "you'd have run through the
streets of the city brandishing an ax smashing saloons. You're a lineal
descendent of Carrie Nation." He puffed quietly until his head was
surrounded by a nimbus of smoke. "Stop trying to reform me," he added.
"You haven't been here long enough."
"Not even God could do that, according to the reports I've heard," she
said.