Dumb And Dumber Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Dumb And Dumber. Here they are! All 41 of them:

You two are like Dumb and Dumber on ice skates.
Beth Ehemann (Room for More (Cranberry Inn, #2))
The dumbing down of the country reflects itself on Broadway. The shows get dumber, and the public gets used to them.
Stephen Sondheim
I didn't think past the first step of anything, that was the key. I drank a Coke and didn't worry about how to recycle the can or about the acid puddling in my belly, acid so powerful it could strip clean a penny. We went to a dumb movie and I didn't worry about the offensive sexism or the lack of minorities in meaningful roles. I didn't even worry about anything that came next. Nothing had consequence, I was living in the moment, and I could feel myself getting shallower and dumber. But also happy.
Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl)
Don’t hurt him. (Geary) Do you think I came all the way over here to hurt him? If I’d wanted him hurt, I’d have left him to Tweedle Dumb and Dumber. (ZT)
Sherrilyn Kenyon (The Dream Hunter (Dark-Hunter, #10; Dream-Hunter, #1))
Reading books doesn't make you smarter. Reading smart books makes you smarter. Reading dumb books makes you dumber.
Oliver Markus Malloy (Inside The Mind of an Introvert)
But it’s tempting to be Cool Girl. For someone like me, who likes to win, it’s tempting to want to be the girl every guy wants. When I met Nick, I knew immediately that was what he wanted, and for him, I guess I was willing to try. I will accept my portion of blame. The thing is, I was crazy about him at first. I found him perversely exotic, a good ole Missouri boy. He was so damn nice to be around. He teased things out in me that I didn’t know existed: a lightness, a humor, an ease. It was as if he hollowed me out and filled me with feathers. He helped me be Cool Girl – I couldn’t have been Cool Girl with anyone else. I wouldn’t have wanted to. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy some of it: I ate a MoonPie, I walked barefoot, I stopped worrying. I watched dumb movies and ate chemically laced foods. I didn’t think past the first step of anything, that was the key. I drank a Coke and didn’t worry about how to recycle the can or about the acid puddling in my belly, acid so powerful it could strip clean a penny. We went to a dumb movie and I didn’t worry about the offensive sexism or the lack of minorities in meaningful roles. I didn’t even worry whether the movie made sense. I didn’t worry about anything that came next. Nothing had consequence, I was living in the moment, and I could feel myself getting shallower and dumber. But also happy.
Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl)
I've been young & dumb, and if I were never called out on it I would now be older and dumber.
Karen E. Quinones Miller
But clearly, the lesson is that incentives can be a dangerous weapon. A critic of this research might say that the problem is not incentives, but dumb incentives. No doubt, some incentives are dumber than others. But no incentives can ever be smart enough to substitute for people who do the right thing because it’s the right thing.
Barry Schwartz (Why We Work (TED Books))
You know that movie ‘Dumb and Dumber’? If there’s an addition of a third member, I’d get the part of ‘Dumbest’.
Martin Reed (My Disjointed Life)
When constructs were first developed, they were originally supposed to have a pre-sentient level of intelligence, like the dumber variety of bot. But you can’t put something as dumb as a hauler bot in charge of security for anything without spending even more money for expensive company-employed human supervisors. So they made us smarter. The anxiety and depression were side effects.
Martha Wells (Artificial Condition (The Murderbot Diaries, #2))
New Rule: Now that liberals have taken back the word "liberal," they also have to take back the word "elite." By now you've heard the constant right-wing attacks on the "elite media," and the "liberal elite." Who may or may not be part of the "Washington elite." A subset of the "East Coast elite." Which is overly influenced by the "Hollywood elite." So basically, unless you're a shit-kicker from Kansas, you're with the terrorists. If you played a drinking game where you did a shot every time Rush Limbaugh attacked someone for being "elite," you'd be almost as wasted as Rush Limbaugh. I don't get it: In other fields--outside of government--elite is a good thing, like an elite fighting force. Tiger Woods is an elite golfer. If I need brain surgery, I'd like an elite doctor. But in politics, elite is bad--the elite aren't down-to-earth and accessible like you and me and President Shit-for-Brains. Which is fine, except that whenever there's a Bush administration scandal, it always traces back to some incompetent political hack appointment, and you think to yourself, "Where are they getting these screwups from?" Well, now we know: from Pat Robertson. I'm not kidding. Take Monica Goodling, who before she resigned last week because she's smack in the middle of the U.S. attorneys scandal, was the third-ranking official in the Justice Department of the United States. She's thirty-three, and though she never even worked as a prosecutor, was tasked with overseeing the job performance of all ninety-three U.S. attorneys. How do you get to the top that fast? Harvard? Princeton? No, Goodling did her undergraduate work at Messiah College--you know, home of the "Fighting Christies"--and then went on to attend Pat Robertson's law school. Yes, Pat Robertson, the man who said the presence of gay people at Disney World would cause "earthquakes, tornadoes, and possibly a meteor," has a law school. And what kid wouldn't want to attend? It's three years, and you have to read only one book. U.S. News & World Report, which does the definitive ranking of colleges, lists Regent as a tier-four school, which is the lowest score it gives. It's not a hard school to get into. You have to renounce Satan and draw a pirate on a matchbook. This is for the people who couldn't get into the University of Phoenix. Now, would you care to guess how many graduates of this televangelist diploma mill work in the Bush administration? On hundred fifty. And you wonder why things are so messed up? We're talking about a top Justice Department official who went to a college founded by a TV host. Would you send your daughter to Maury Povich U? And if you did, would you expect her to get a job at the White House? In two hundred years, we've gone from "we the people" to "up with people." From the best and brightest to dumb and dumber. And where better to find people dumb enough to believe in George Bush than Pat Robertson's law school? The problem here in America isn't that the country is being run by elites. It's that it's being run by a bunch of hayseeds. And by the way, the lawyer Monica Goodling hired to keep her ass out of jail went to a real law school.
Bill Maher (The New New Rules: A Funny Look At How Everybody But Me Has Their Head Up Their Ass)
A change in direction was required. The story you finished was perhaps never the one you began. Yes! He would take charge of his life anew, binding his breaking selves together. Those changes in himself that he sought, he himself would initiate and make them. No more of this miasmic, absent drift. How had he ever persuaded himself that his money-mad burg would rescue him all by itself, this Gotham in which Jokers and Penguins were running riot with no Batman (or even Robin) to frustrate their schemes, this Metropolis built of Kryptonite in which no Superman dared set foot, where wealth was mistaken for riches and the joy of possession for happiness, where people lived such polished lives that the great rough truths of raw existence had been rubbed and buffed away, and in which human souls had wandered so separately for so long that they barely remembered how to touch; this city whose fabled electricity powered the electric fences that were being erected between men and men, and men and women, too? Rome did not fall because her armies weakened but because Romans forgot what being Roman meant. Might this new Rome actually be more provincial than its provinces; might these new Romans have forgotten what and how to value, or had they never known? Were all empires so undeserving, or was this one particularly crass? Was nobody in all this bustling endeavor and material plenitude engaged, any longer, on the deep quarry-work of the mind and heart? O Dream-America, was civilization's quest to end in obesity and trivia, at Roy Rogers and Planet Hollywood, in USA Today and on E!; or in million-dollar-game-show greed or fly-on-the-wall voyeurism; or in the eternal confessional booth of Ricki and Oprah and Jerry, whose guests murdered each other after the show; or in a spurt of gross-out dumb-and-dumber comedies designed for young people who sat in darkness howling their ignorance at the silver screen; or even at the unattainable tables of Jean-Georges Vongerichten and Alain Ducasse? What of the search for the hidden keys that unlock the doors of exaltation? Who demolished the City on the Hill and put in its place a row of electric chairs, those dealers in death's democracy, where everyone, the innocent, the mentally deficient, the guilty, could come to die side by side? Who paved Paradise and put up a parking lot? Who settled for George W. Gush's boredom and Al Bore's gush? Who let Charlton Heston out of his cage and then asked why children were getting shot? What, America, of the Grail? O ye Yankee Galahads, ye Hoosier Lancelots, O Parsifals of the stockyards, what of the Table Round? He felt a flood bursting in him and did not hold back. Yes, it had seduced him, America; yes, its brilliance aroused him, and its vast potency too, and he was compromised by this seduction. What he opposed in it he must also attack in himself. It made him want what it promised and eternally withheld. Everyone was an American now, or at least Americanized: Indians, Uzbeks, Japanese, Lilliputians, all. America was the world's playing field, its rule book, umpire, and ball. Even anti-Americanism was Americanism in disguise, conceding, as it did, that America was the only game in town and the matter of America the only business at hand; and so, like everyone, Malik Solanka now walked its high corridors cap in hand, a supplicant at its feast; but that did not mean he could not look it in the eye. Arthur had fallen, Excalibur was lost and dark Mordred was king. Beside him on the throne of Camelot sat the queen, his sister, the witch Morgan le Fay.
Salman Rushdie (Fury)
I’m a simple man,” Jack said clearly, Lydia’s hands in his, his eyes never leaving hers. “I like meaningless sex, McDonald’s, fart jokes, Dumb and Dumber, and Top Forty hits I’ll forget a week after they drop off the charts. I cuss like a sailor and I’m an uncultured swine. I don’t slow down, a Tigger in an Eeyore world. But somehow … Somehow, I met—
Moriah Jovan (Black Jack (Tales of Dunham: A Novel))
-What is dumber than a dumb kindness? -An evil fool.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Demons)
Another case for the dumbness of reading, however, is that books do not contain answers, but rather pose more questions. And asking questions makes you look dumber, not smarter. I thought Alice's Adventures in Wonderland would be a delightful romp through a child's subconscious, but while reading it I started to ask questions like "How do you really speak to other humans when our language often means the opposite of what is intended?" and "How do I really know anyone?" And so on, until I was asking the question "Why even exist at all?" That didn't make me smarter! That made me wish for death, and being dead looks way dumber than being alive.
Dan Wilbur (How Not to Read: Harnessing the Power of a Literature-Free Life)
All this to say of course Gallo wants to get into your Little Mermaid panties. And if you don't get that, you're dumber than I ever thought, which gives me such a headache to even contemplate. The massive amount of your dumbness. It hurts me,' he whined.
MaryJanice Davidson (You and I, Me and You (Cadence Jones, #3))
My bad mood returns like an unwanted rash. “I got in a fight with Logan. And that’s all I’m saying on the subject, because if I talk about it right now, it’ll just piss me off again and then I’ll be too distracted to produce Dumb and Dumber’s show.” We both glance at the main booth, where Evelyn is using the reflection on her water glass to check her makeup, dabbing delicately at her eye shadow. Pace is engrossed with his phone, his chair tipped back so far that I predict a very loud disaster in the near future. “God, I love them,” Daisy says with a snicker. “I don’t think I’ve ever met two more self-absorbed people.” Morris saunters out of the booth and wanders over to us. He notices Daisy’s shirt and says, “Sweetheart, we’re at work. Show some decorum.” “Says the guy who ripped this shirt off me in the supply closet.” Rolling her eyes, she takes a step away. “I’m going to make myself presentable in the bathroom. I’d do it out here, but I’m scared Dumber might take a picture and post it on a porn site.” “Wait, the names Dumb and Dumber actually correspond to each of them?” Morris says in surprise. “I thought it was more of a general thing. Which one is Dumber?” The second the question leaves his mouth, a muffled crash reverberates from the booth, and we all turn to see Pace tangled up on the floor. Yup, the guy who spent an hour regaling me about his cow-tipping days back in Iowa? Tipped himself right over. From behind the glass, Pace bounces to his feet, notices us staring, and mouths the words, “I’m okay!” Morris sighs. “I withdraw the question
Elle Kennedy (The Mistake (Off-Campus, #2))
Janitorial" All morning he drifts the spacious lawns like a gleaner, picking up this and that, the summer clouds immense and building toward afternoon, when the heat drives him under the shade of the oak trees in the quad and then along cool corridors inside to pull down last term's flyers For the chamber recital, the poetry reading, the lecture on the ethics of cloning, the dinner with some ambassador, the debate between Kant and Heidegger, the frat party, the sorority party, the kegger, the weekend Bergman festival, the Wednesday screening of Dumb and Dumber. He says hello to fine young ladies, and tries not to dwell on their halter tops, their tanned thighs, shorts up to here. At five he climbs into an old, dumpster-colored olds, lights up and heads home across the barge-ridden river in its servitude to East St. Louis, where you know this poem—glib, well-meaning, trivial-- grows tongue-tied, and cannot follow.
George Bilgere
According to the man, who identified himself as Morton Thornton, the night got real long and by midnight, he was darn well wed to one of the lovelier inhabitants of the dish, a comely middle-aged amoeba of unknown parentage named Rita. When he was rescued on the morning of the following day, Morton plumb forgot about his single-celled nuptials and went back to his daytime job tasting the contents of open pop bottles for backwash and cigarette butts. Only sixteen years later, when a brilliant Sacajawea Junior High roving reporter—who shall remain nameless—discovered the product of this union lurking among us right here at Sac Junior High, was Morton’s long-held secret discovered. “This intrepid reporter was present three weeks into Dale Thornton’s third try at seventh grade, when the young Einstein bet this reporter and several other members of the class that he could keep a wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth from the beginning of fifth period Social Studies until the bell. The dumb jerk only lasted twenty minutes, after which he sprinted from the room, not to be seen for the rest of the day. When he returned on the following morning, he told Mr. Getz he had suddenly become ill and had to go home, but without a written excuse (he probably didn’t have a rock big enough for his dad to chisel it on) he was sent to the office. The principal, whose intellectual capacities lie only fractions of an IQ point above Dale’s, believed his lame story, and Dale was readmitted to class. Our dauntless reporter, however, smelled a larger story, recognizing that for a person to attempt this in the first place, even his genes would have to be dumber than dirt. With a zeal rivaled only by Alex Haley’s relentless search for Kunta Kinte, he dived into Dale’s seamy background, where he discovered the above story to be absolutely true and correct. Further developments will appear in this newspaper as they unfold.
Chris Crutcher (Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes)
emburrecimento da América do Norte é muito evidente no lento declínio do conteúdo substantivo nos tão influentes meios de comunicação, nos trinta segundos de informações que fazem furor (que agora já são dez segundos ou menos), na programação de padrão nivelado por baixo, na apresentação crédula da pseudociência e da superstição, mas especialmente numa espécie de celebração da ignorância. No momento em que escrevo, o vídeo mais alugado na América do Norte é o filme Dumb and Dumber [Débi e Lóide]. Beavis and Butthead continuam populares (e influentes) entre os jovens que vêem televisão. A lição clara é que estudar e aprender – e não se trata apenas de ciência, mas de tudo o mais – é evitável, até indesejável.
Why can’t people simply accept these differences in knowledge or competence? This is an unreasonable question, since it amounts to saying “Why don’t people just accept that other people are smarter than they are?” (Or, conversely, “Why don’t smart people just explain why other people are dumber than they are?”) The reality is that social insecurity trips up both the smart and the dumb. We all want to be liked. In
Thomas M. Nichols (The Death of Expertise: The Campaign Against Established Knowledge and Why it Matters)
Aging hipsters are a hillary clinton cartoon become a nightmare real life dumb and dumber. A new renaissance emerged built like a boogeyman from the bones of social media, 4Chan, and Ferguson, Missouri.
Karlos Rene Ayala (I'll Show You Who's Boss Even If You Suffer And I Get In Trouble)
He couldn’t spot them, and the minor foot traffic on the sidewalk was not enough to hide. They must have entered a building or alley. Rather than searching all of them, he let his nose do its job. Big breath in. Filter the smells. Aha. There, up the sidewalk a few more storefronts then into an arcade. The wolves that dragged her probably hoped to hide their scent and sneak out the back. Except Hayder knew this place. He knew where the door to the alley was, thus, when the steel door swung open, he stood there, arms crossed waiting for them. “Shit, he’s here. Get back inside,” the chubby one grunted. “Oh, don’t leave on my account. I insist you stay.” And to make sure they did, he kicked the door shut. The two thugs backed away from him, the one who needed to invest in a treadmill holding Arabella, who hung limp in his grasp, before him as a shield. She was alive. However, her eyes bore a resigned expression Hayder didn’t like at all. “Baby, are you all right? Did they hurt you?” The answer was moot. At this point, he was going to punish them no matter what, violently. They’d done the unforgivable when they’d taken Arabella and scared her. However, if they’d actually hurt her, or if she cried… We’ll make them wish their mother had a headache the night they were conceived. Rawr. Her reply emerged so soft he almost missed it. “I told you this would happen. They’ll never let me be free.” How utterly convinced she seemed and miserable. Totally unacceptable. “Don’t you dare take this without a fight,” he growled. The chubby one should have spent more time on expanding his mind instead of his waistline because he showed no sense at all when he said, “Bella here knows her place, and after the next full moon, it will be on her knees, serving the new alpha of the pack.” Hell no. Hayder didn’t even think twice about it. His fist shot out, and it connected to the idiot’s nose with a satisfying crunch, and that left one wolf. An even dumber wolf that seemed to think the switchblade he’d pulled out of a pocket and waved around would really make a difference. “Are you stupid enough to think you can take me with that puny knife?” Hayder couldn’t stem the incredulity in his query. “Stay back, cat, or else. It’s silver.” Silver, which meant painful if he got sliced with it. Harder to heal, too. But a three-inch blade wasn’t going to keep Hayder away from his woman. As beta, though, he did try to give the idiot a chance. Show patience before acting, or so he’d been taught as part of those anger management courses Leo made him take. Hayder employed one of the tricks to control impulsive acts. He counted. “Three.” “I’ll cut you.” Slash. Slash. The knifeman sketched lines in the air. “Two.” “I mean it.” “One. You’re dead.” Hayder took a step forward even as the last dumb wolf took a step back, one hand clamped around Arabella’s arm. Lightning fast, Hayder shot a hand out to grab the wrist of the guy wielding the knife. This fellow had slightly faster reflexes than his pack brothers and actually managed to score a line of red across his palm. The blood didn’t bother Hayder. ’Twas but a scratch. However, the coppery scent did something to Arabella. Up snapped her head. Her nostrils flared. Her brown eyes took on a wildness. Her lips pulled back in a snarl. “Don’t. Touch. Him!” With a screech, she turned on her captor and then proceeded to go rabid on his ass. How cool.
Eve Langlais (When a Beta Roars (A Lion's Pride, #2))
DUMBER THAN DUMB – The Detroit neighbor called the police after hearing the woman next door shriek ‘Stop – No” – PLEASE – NO!” Which brought the police a running. No crime really, the woman what shouting to stop her odiferous boyfriend from farting again.
I sense a learning: that much dumber people than you end up in charge. Look at the way things are. I'm no fucken genius or anything, but these spazzos are in charge of my every twitch. What I'm starting to think is maybe only the dumb are safe in this world, the ones who roam with the herd, without thinking about every little thing. But see me? I have to think about every little fucken thing.
D.B.C. Pierre (Vernon God Little)
I thought about all the dumb things I’d done since I got to camp. Telling everyone that Eric Richards was my cousin was dumb, but following Denni was even dumber.
Judy Baer (Camp Pinetree Pals (Treetop Tales))
When I was little and my mom used to take me to the mall she always told me that if I got lost, I should just stay where I was and she’d come and find me,” Denni said. “We’re not in a mall now!” I screamed. “No, but we are lost.” Denni looked up the hill where we had been, and then down into the thick, blackness of the trees ahead of us. “I think we should stay here. Meg, Katie, or Ariel will notice that we’re missing and they’ll come looking for us.” “But they won’t know where we are,” I said. “We’re off the trail.” I thought about all the dumb things I’d done since I got to camp. Telling everyone that Eric Richards was my cousin was dumb, but following Denni was even dumber.
Judy Baer (Camp Pinetree Pals (Treetop Tales))
Either Ault was a lot harder than my junior high had been, or I was getting dumber- I suspected both. If I wasn't literally getting dumber, I knew at least that I'd lost the glow that surrounds you when the teachers think you're one of the smart, responsible ones, that glow that shines brighter every time you raise your hand in class to say the perfect thing, or you run out of room in a blue book during an exam and have to ask for a second one.
Curtis Sittenfeld (Prep)
growing up so poor that for a time his family lived in their Volkswagen van on a relative’s lawn, Jim Carrey believed in his future. Every night in the late 1980’s, Carrey would drive atop a large hill that looked down over Los Angeles and visualize directors valuing his work. At the time, he was a broke and struggling young comic. One night in 1990, while looking down on Los Angeles and dreaming of his future, Carrey wrote himself a check for $10 million and put in the notation line “for acting services rendered.” He dated the check for Thanksgiving 1995 and stuck it in his wallet. He gave himself five years. And just before Thanksgiving of 1995, he got paid $10 million for Dumb and Dumber.
Benjamin P. Hardy (How to Consciously Design Your Ideal Future)
I couldn’t believe that last publisher. If you keep dumbing down art/products, the culture/consumers will remain dumb, maybe even regress. We’d have a country filled with idiots. Why not push people to be smarter? Is being smart a bad thing? Maybe we are in a dark age of some sort. Stupidity isn’t only being encouraged, it’s being cultivated. It’s easier to make money and control people when they are dumber than you. After
D.B. Rouse (Busker)
Cohn’s derisive contempt for Kushner as well as the president was even greater. In return, the president heaped more abuse on Cohn—the former president of Goldman Sachs was now a “complete idiot, dumber than dumb.
Michael Wolff (Fire and Fury: Inside the Trump White House)
384. Jeff Daniels got paid $50,000 for his role in “Dumb and Dumber”. At the same time, his partner, Jim Carrey got paid $7 million.
Lena Shaw (1000 Random Facts And Trivia, Volume 3 (Interesting Trivia and Funny Facts))
Dumb always attracts dumber,” he
Vivian Rose Lee (Obstinate Hearts (Heart #7))
While it would be great if the enemy kept on treating them like they were dumb and dumber, there came a point where acting stupid just became being stupid.
Evan Currie (Homeworld (Odyssey One, #3))
Colin Winters Rule of Intelligence (CWRI): Think of a person of average intelligence. Half the people are dumber than that.
Colin Winters
May 16, 2019 - de Blasio announces run for president generating excitement from tens of supporters.
Matt Palumbo (Dumb and Dumber: How Cuomo and de Blasio Ruined New York)
Watts was so poor at managing his time and curbing his distractedness because he was dumb, and as he ran out of time and became more distracted [and fatigued] he became even dumber. It’s dumb and dumber, not smart undermined by dumbing influences.
Nick van der Leek (SILVER FOX: POST TRUTH (SF Book 3))
Capitalism is the means by which the elite rule. Democracy is the charade that pretends the people are in charge. The people are so dumb they don’t understand that to apply rich man’s capitalism to non-rich-man’s democracy is a category error. There is no democracy in capitalism. How many capitalist businesses are run as democracies? If democracy is so great, why haven’t all capitalists adopted it ... rather than making sure it makes no appearance at all in the corridors of capitalist power? Capitalists never subject their capital to public scrutiny. They never require public approval. They never make themselves accountable to the people. They never subject themselves to the vote, to election. Yet they all proclaim themselves the champions of Freedom and Democracy (aka Freedumb and Dumbocracy). They are the Pinocchio Class, with the longest noses you could ever conceive.
Ranty McRanterson (Planet Stupid: How Earth Got Dumber and Dumber)
When you allow society to be designed by irrational, unintelligent markets, and capitalists who will do anything to turn a profit, what do you expect? Fifty percent of teens feel addicted to mobile devices. They can’t put their smartphones down. Their devices are like an extra limb, or vital bodily organ. But smartphones are in truth dumbphones. They produce an inability to focus, to concentrate, to pay attention ... the prerequisites for intelligent, considered behavior. They are not social devices, they are anti-social. They generate a lack of empathy, lack of quality human relationships, an epidemic of snarling, disgusting trolls tormenting every victim they can find. Smartphones are transforming all aspects of human behavior, and not for the better. Who is doing anything about it? Who is empowered to do anything about it? No one at all. Anyone who tried would be branded a fascist. That’s why these things have to play out to the bitter end. The cataclysm inherent in them is sure to unfold since there is nothing to stop it.
Ranty McRanterson (Planet Stupid: How Earth Got Dumber and Dumber)
That brown one over there just tried to eat some chicken feathers. The spotted one looks even dumber. The black one looks like its parents beat it with an ugly stick. A dumb-and-ugly stick.
Crafty Nichole (Diary of an Angry Alex: Book 7 (an Unofficial Minecraft Book))
There's no right and wrong in criticism, only smarter and dumber. But ideologizing is always dumb. It cramps your style, foreclosing the behind-the-back dribbles, the no-look passes, and the alley-oop reverse jams that could put some soul in your critical game.
Frederick Crews