DELILLO, Don

p. 11

He speaks in your voice, American, and there's a shine in his eye that's halfway hopeful.

p. 280

"There's a word in Italian. Dietrologia. It Means the science of what is behind something. A suspicious event. The science of what is behind an event."
"They need this science. I don't need it."
"I don't need it either. I'm just telling you."
"I'm an American. I go to ball games," he said.
"The science of dark forces. Evidently they feel this science is legitimate enough to require a name."
"People who need this science, I would make an effort to tell them we have real sciences, hard sciences, we don't need imaginary ones."
"I'm just telling you the word. I agree with you, Sims. But the word exists."
"There's always a word. [...]"

p. 542

"The tag or aglet."
"The aglet," I said.
"And the little metal ring that reinforces the rim of the eyelet through which the aglet passes. We're doing the physics of language, Shay."
"The little ring."
"You see it?"
"Yes."
"This is the grommet," he said.
"Oh man."
"The grommet. Learn it, know it and love it."
"I'm going out of my mind."
"This is the final arcan knowledge. And when I take my shoe to the shoemaker and he places it on a form to make repairs - a block shaped like a foot. This is called a what?"
"I don't know."
"A last."
"My head is breaking apart."
"Everyday things represent the most overlooked knowledge. These names are vital to your progress. Quotidian things. If they weren't important, we wouldn't use such a gorgeous Latinate word. Say it," he said.
"Quotidian."
"An extraordinary word that suggests the depth and reach of the commonplace."

p. 827

And you can glance out the window for a moment, distracted by the sound of small kids playing a made-up game in a neighbor's yard, some kind of kickball maybe, and they speak in your voice [...].

Underworld, 1997.