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Next morning I was up betimes -- I sent the Crier round,
All with his bell and gold-laced hat to say I'd give a pound
To find that little vulgar Boy, who'd gone and used me so;
But when the Crier cried, 'O Yes!' the people cried, 'O No!'

 

Richard Harris Barham

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(upon seeing the movie) I'm a bit nervous about whether people will like it, but I've seen it, and I'm sure they will. It's really good - it's quite scary, it's quite emotional. Even I cried and I don't cry easily! I cried at the end credits when my name came up, and I was, like, Oh my God! I can't believe that's my name! I've met so many people since we started filming and it's been wonderful. I've progressed so far and changed so much since the beginning. It's been like a real journey.

 

Daniel Radcliffe

 

“Yeah, well, I subscribe to the Umberto Eco view that Noel is a Poet and Liam is a town crier.”

 

Peter Doherty

 

"Money! Money in Oz!" cried the Tin Woodman. "What a queer idea! Did you suppose we are so vulgar as to use money here?"
"Why not?" asked the shaggy man.
"If we used money to buy things with, instead of love and kindness and the desire to please one another, then we should be no better than the rest of the world," declared the Tin Woodman. "Fortunately money is not known in the Land of Oz at all. We have no rich, and no poor; for what one wishes the others all try to give him, in order to make him happy, and no one in all Oz cares to have more than he can use."
"Good!" cried the shaggy man, greatly pleased to hear this. "I also despise money — a man in Butterfield owes me fifteen cents, and I will not take it from him. The Land of Oz is surely the most favored land in all the world, and its people the happiest. I should like to live here always."

 

L. Frank Baum

 

Themistocles being asked whether he would rather be Achilles or Homer, said, "Which would you rather be,—a conqueror in the Olympic games, or the crier that proclaims who are conquerors?"

 

Plutarch

 

'It comes, it comes!' they sang. 'Sleepers awake! It comes, it comes, it comes.' One dreadful glance over my shoulder I essayed — not long enough to see (or did I see?) the rim of the sunrise that shoots Time dead with golden arrows and puts to flight all phantasmal shapes. Screaming, I buried my face in the fold of the Teacher's robe. 'The morning! The morning!' I cried. 'I am caught by the morning and I am a ghost.'

 

C. S. Lewis