UCLA, Los Angeles, California (Google Maps ⧉, OpenStreetMap ⧉)

"This other is Dr. Simmons from U.C.L.A., a specialist in Ortega y Gasset;"

"an off-site team at UCLA that is doing atmospheric feedback mechanisms, primarily focusing on cloud cover as it varies with temperature change"

"He told me it just came over her, and she was unable to move and was dark blue before the paramedics showed up and took her to UCLA. She’s been in intensive care all afternoon."

"Evans, who was lying in the emergency room at UCLA with a respirator on his face, just stared."

"She had once heard that students at UCLA and USC talked about using her the way commercial directors talked about using actresses who got a million dollars a picture, but she had never talked to any of them."

"…an actress who had been admitted to UCLA Neuropsychiatry with her wrists cut (the papers said exhaustion, but BZ knew things like that, knew about people, that was why she had called him)"

"She had just graduated from Stanford, she was teaching summer school, working on her master’s degree in history at UCLA."

"When Tavares said, 'Boy, I woulda killed to go to UCLA,'..."

"Fidelia said, "There’s not gonna be College of the Desert for you. And no UCLA for me. No high school. No graduation. Nothing’s coming back for a long time."

"“I have my … UCLA student ID. I was born in JFK Hospital in Indio. I’m pre‐law at UCLA so you better have warrants signed by a judge.”"

"…the staff psychologist from Child Protective Services, a twenty-nine-year-old recently minted PhD from UCLA named Jennifer Gelfand-Peña."

"Stan, a doctoral student my own age at UCLA, writing his dissertation on the American literary expatriates of Paris."

"He was a light-brown-skinned guy in his early thirties, good‐looking with slightly Caucasian features and straight brown hair. He was a graduate of U.C.L.A. and didn't take anything from the white folks and didn't give them anything."

"Anyway, when I enter U.C.L.A. this fall I'll have to go on the graveyard shift, and there might be a better bunch of workers."

"…I took my jeweler’s glass, or “diamond loupe,” my briefcase, and two dozen good stones to an extension lady’s home—out of UCLA, of course—and spoke to a class of affluent matrons."

"“Just don’t go to UCLA,” I blurted. “It’s a butcher shop.”"

"I’m working over at UCLA as a research assistant, what are you doing?"

"reminding her hulking high school compatriots, who, most of them, had gone on immediately to UCLA or to marriage or both, 'I’m an international courier!"

"…I talked with the coyote expert at UCLA the other day—Werner Schnitter?—and he says stucco will do the trick."

"I park my car in front of Trent’s new apartment, a few blocks from U.C.L.A. in Westwood, the apartment he lives in when he has classes."

"killed himself at a fraternity party at U.C.L.A."

"Sixty miles an hour and ten minutes later, there was Westwood to look at. A pretty town, safe, and rich, and if the kids wanted to go to UCLA, perfect for them."

"I also talk to Pierce, some friend from high school, and apologize for not calling him when I got in and I hear Trent telling everyone about how much fun he’s having at the fraternity he joined at U.C.L.A."