—Then there is the final possibility, my favorite.
—Yes?
—The final possibility is that I'm God.
—You're God?
—Just a theory, but the data are provocative. I mean, look at me. Faceless, shapeless, holey, undifferentiated, Jewish, inscrutable... and a hermaphrodite to boot. Years ago, I told you sponges cannot be fatally dismembered, for each part quickly becomes the whole. To wit, I am both immortal and infinite.
—You're God? You're God herself? You?
—The data are provocative.
—God is a sponge? A sponge? There's not much comfort in that.
—Agreed.
—Sponges can't help us.
—Neither can God, as far as I can tell. I'd be happy to see some contrary data.

Chapter 18 (p. 312) - Only Begotten Daughter (1990)