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Eddie Izzard

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You have no control over your cat! You can't say to your cat, "Cat, heel! Stay! Wait! Lie down! Roll over!" 'Cause the cat's just gonna be sitting there going, "Interesting words … have you finished?" While you're shouting all this to your cat, your dog's next to you, going … [mimes obeying all commands] "What the hell are you doing? I'm talking to the cat!" "Oh, I'm sorry!"

Eddie Izzard

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He said "I'll punch your head!" I said "Whose?" He said "Yours!"
I said "Mine?" He said "Yes!" I said "Oh?"
He said "Want a fight?" I said "Who?" He said "You!"
I said "Me?" He said "Yes!" I said "No!"
So we then came to words, he said "You're a cad!"
I said "Cad?" He said "Yes!" I said "Who?"
He said "Who?" I said "Yes." He said "You!" I said "Oh!"
So of course then I knew.

Robb Wilton

"Air! Air!" croaked Kralefsky, "Give me air!"
"Interesting," said Colonel Ribbindane. "Saw a pygmy like that once in the Congo... been trapped in an elephant’s stomach. The elephant is the largest African quadruped.."
"Do get him out," said Mother agitatedly. "Get some brandy."
"Fan him! Blow on him!" shrilled Margo, and burst into tears. "He’s dying, he’s dying, and he never finished his trick."

Gerald Durrell

"Go to hell," Covenant mumbled. "Don’t you ever sleep?"
"The Bloodguard do not sleep."
"No Bloodguard has slept since the Haruchai swore their Vow."
With an effort, Covenant pulled himself into a sitting position. He peered blearily at Bannor for a moment, then muttered, "You’re already in hell."

Stephen R. Donaldson

The Pythagoreans called the monad "intellect" because they thought that intellect was akin to the One; for among the virtues, they likened the monad to moral wisdom; for what is correct is one. And they called it "being," "cause of truth," "simple," "paradigm," "order," "concord," "what is equal among the greater and the lesser," "the mean between intensity and slackness," "moderation in plurality," "the instant now in time," and moreover they call it "ship," "chariot," "friend," "life," "happiness."

Iamblichus of Chalcis

"Do you know how long a year takes when it's going away?" Dunbar repeated to Clevinger. "This long." He snapped his fingers. "A second ago you were stepping into college with your lungs full of fresh air. Today you're an old man."
"Old?" asked Clevinger with surprise. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm not old."
"You're inches away from death every time you go on a mission. How much older can you be at your age? A half minute before that you were stepping into high school, and an unhooked brassiere was as close as you ever hoped to get to Paradise. Only a fifth of a second before that you were a small kid with a ten-week summer vacation that lasted a hundred thousand years and still ended too soon. Zip! They go rocketing by so fast. How the hell else are you ever going to slow down?" Dunbar was almost angry when he finished.
"Well, maybe it is true," Clevinger conceded unwillingly in a subdued tone. "Maybe a long life does have to be filled with many unpleasant conditions if it's to seem long. But in that event, who wants one?"
"I do," Dunbar told him.
"Why?" Clevinger asked.
"What else is there?"

Joseph Heller
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