Collecting quotations is an insidious, even embarrassing habit, like ragpicking or hoarding rocks or trying on other people’s laundry. I got into it originally while trying to break an addiction to candy. I kicked candy and now seem to be stuck with quotations, which are attacking my brain instead of my teeth.

Byrne humorously frames quotation-collecting as a compulsive substitute for another craving, suggesting that the impulse to gather memorable lines can become its own kind of addiction. The comparison to “ragpicking,” “hoarding rocks,” and “trying on other people’s laundry” underscores the slightly furtive, scavenger-like quality of collecting other people’s words—useful and fascinating, yet potentially obsessive or socially odd. The final twist (“attacking my brain instead of my teeth”) shifts from bodily harm (sugar) to mental occupation: quotations can crowd one’s attention, shape one’s thinking, and become a constant internal presence. The remark both satirizes and defends the practice, implying that even embarrassing habits may be intellectually nourishing.