Here’s a nice paragraph from Illywhacker (Book 3, ch 59, p572 in my paperback faber & faber edition):
I sat in my chair and watched the hessianed goanna dropped into the boot. I knew, that day, that God is a glutton for grief, love, regret, sadness, joy too, everything, remorse, guilt – it is all steak and eggs to him and he will promise anything to get them. But what am I saying? There is no God. There is only me, Herbert Badgery, enthroned high above Pitt Street while angels or parrots trill attendance.
What a great name, Herbert Badgery.