the last book I ever read (A Hall of Mirrors by Robert Stone, excerpt nine)

from A Hall of Mirrors by Robert Stone:

“We had raccoons,” Marvin said. “At night – raccoons.”

“Raccoons of the mind,” Rheinhardt said idly.

“Fuck that,” the girl said.

“Yeah,” Marvin said. “Raccoons are groovy, but not so groovy are the raccoons of the mind.”

“Oh,” the girl said, shuddering now and moaning with revulsion, “the dirty raccoons of the mind.”

“That’s the word kind of raccoons there are,” Bogdanovich told them with a scholarly air. “The ravagey little raccoons of the mind.”

“Are they in the mind’s California?” the girl asked fearfully.

“No,” Bogdanovich said, “the raccoons are actual raccoons.”