Louis

“One day, you will say it to me again. You will be sober. And you will mean it.”
I was actually terrified that I already meant it. A guy might just be a keeper who hears your cry for help in his head. And comes into a den of thieves to get you out. And then holds your hair while you throw up for ten minutes.”
― Karen Chance, In Vino Veritas

“I too am relieved. I did not know if Kate would like me.”
“Well, sure she would! You’re her own kind, right?”
“I am her kind?”
Richard suddenly looked less sure of himself, but he said, “I mean you’re in that same milieu or whatever. That science milieu she was raised in. Right, Uncle Louis?” he asked. “No normal person could understand you people.”
“What exactly do you find difficult to understand?” Dr. Battista asked him.
“Oh, you know, all that science jargon; I can’t offhand—”
“I am researching autoimmune disorders,” Dr. Battista said. “It’s true that ‘autoimmune’ has four syllables, but perhaps if I broke the word down for you…”
― Anne Tyler, Vinegar Girl

“Tonight I heard Louis's horn. My father heard it, too. The wind was right, and I could hear the notes of taps, just as darkness fell. There is nothing in all the world I like better than the trumpet of the swan.”
― E.B. White, The Trumpet of the Swan

“Unlike earlier thinkers, who had sought to improve their accuracy by getting rid of error, Laplace realized that you should try to get more error: aggregate enough flawed data, and you get a glimpse of the truth. “The genius of statistics, as Laplace defined it, was that it did not ignore errors; it quantified them,” the writer Louis Menand observed. “…The right answer is, in a sense, a function of the mistakes.”
― Kathryn Schulz, Being Wrong: Adventures in the Margin of Error