"Oh, sure! I like somebody to stick to the point and all. But I don't like them to stick too much to the point. I don't know. I guess I don't like it when somebody sticks to the point all the time. The boys that got the best marks in Oral Expression were the ones that stuck to the point all the time--I admit it. But there was this one boy, Richard Kinsella. He didn't stick to the point too much, and they were always yelling 'Digression!' at him. It was terrible, because in the first place, he was a very nervous guy--I mean he was a very nervous guy--and his lips were always shaking whenever it was his time to make a speech, and you could hardly hear him if you were sitting way in the back of the room. When his lips sort of quit shaking a little bit, though, I liked his speeches better than anybody else's. He practically flunked the course, though, too. He got a D plus because they kept yelling 'Digression!' at him all the time. For instance, he made this speech about this farm his father bought in Vermont. They kept yelling 'Digression!' at him the whole time he was making it, and this teacher, Mr. Vinson, gave him an F on it because he hadn't told what kind of animals and vegetables and stuff grew on the farm and all. What he did was, Richard Kinsella, he'd start telling you all about that stuff--then all of a sudden he'd start telling you about this letter his mother got from his uncle, and how his uncle got polio and all when he was forty-two years old, and how he wouldn't let anybody come to see him in the hospital because he didn't want anybody to see him with a brace on. It didn't have much to do with the farm--I admit it--but it was nice. It's nice when somebody tells you about their uncle. Especially when they start out telling you about their father's farm and then all of a sudden get more interested in their uncle. I mean it's dirty to keep yelling 'Digression!' at him when he's all nice and excited. I don't know. It's hard to explain."
(J.D.Salinger, Catcher in the Rye)

ar viņu taču kā ar jēlu olu, neko nevar pateikt. nevar pateikt neko kritisku, jo nekad nevar zināt kādā viņš garastāvoklī. ja pasaki kaut ko, kas nav viņam pa prātam vai neatbilst tam, kā viņš izdomājis, uzreiz apvainojas, saērcinās vai aizslēdz ierakstu ar visiem mūsu komentāriem, kuriem vairs nevaram tikt klāt, visas tās nozagtās diskusijas. un pat ja neaizslēdz, tad neatbild vai atbild tik stulbi samocīti, ka sabojā gan pats sava ieraksta noskaņu, gan komentētāja noskaņojumu. pat labu viņam nedrīkst teikt, jo to viņš atkal uzskata par pielīšanu vai liekulību, vai ņirgāšanos, vai stulbumu galu galā. tāpēc labāk viņam nekomentēt vispār neko un klusi palikt maliņā, vērotāja pozīcijā. un kuram tad gribas vairs komentēt, kad tavus komentārus tā ņem un aizvāc pie sevis atvilktnē, ha ha ha, hi hi hi.