Christopher Moore Quotes

You think you know how this story is going to end, but you don't.

. . . You seem upset, Charlie. Is something wrong? Charlie: No, no, I’m okay, I just had to take directions from a mute beaver in a fez to get here, it’s unsettling.

Charlie Asher: Mrs. Ling, is that duck wearing trousers? Mrs. Ling: Could be . . . . You hear of paper-wrap chicken? This duck in pants.

I like a girl with a substantial bottom,' said Renoir, drawing in the air the size bottom he preferred.

Shoes off in the whale! And don't try and make a break for the anus.

Words, words, words, a million million words circle in my head like hawks, waiting to dive onto the page to rend and tear the only two words I want to write. Why me?

May the IRS find that you deduct your pet sheep as an entertainment expense.

All fear comes from trying to see the future, Biff. If you know what is coming, you aren't afraid.

Theophilus Crowe's mobile phone played eight bars of "Tangled Up in Blue" in an irritating electronic voice that sounded like a choir of suffering houseflies, or Jiminy Cricket huffing helium, or, well, you know, Bob Dylan.

I am convinced by the events of the last few weeks that nefarious forces of people--unidentified but no less real--are threatening life as we know it, and in fact, may be bent on unraveling the very fabric of our existence.

And I'll have you know that if you hurt my son again, if he so much as sighs sadly over his coffee, I will hire a man, a Russian, probably, to hunt you down and rip all that shiny black hair from your head, then break your skinny arms and legs, and set you on fire, and then put you out with a hammer. And should there be children from your beastly rutting, I shall have the Russian man cut them to tiny pieces and feed them to Madame Jacob's dog. because, although he may be only a worthless, simpleminded, libertine artist, Lucien is my favorite, and I will not have him hurt. Do you understand?

What this movie needs is more brain eating zombies.

He has the attention span of a hummingbird.

I think I'm what they call a never-was.

Not unlike the toaster, I control darkness.

It turns out that one can perpetrate all manner of heinous villainy under a cloak of courtesy and good cheer. . .a man will forfeit all sensible self-interest if he finds you affable enough to share your company over a flagon of ale.

She laughed. My favorite music.

Hope is merely another face of desire.

Advice, then, young yeoman: When referring to the king's middle daughter, state that she is fair, speculate that she is pious, but unless you'd like to spend your watch looking for the box where your head is kept, resist the urge to wax ignorant on her naughty bits." -Pocket I don't know what that means, sir." -Yeoman Speak not of Regan's shaggacity, son" [...] -Pocket

So I am death" Charlie said then turned to his daughter while buttering his toast. "This is death toast sweety.

. . . And so Charlie Asher . . . led an army of fourteen-inch-tall bundles of animal bits, armed with everything from knitting needles to a spork, into the storm sewers of San Fransciso.

Faith isn't an act of intelligence, it's an act of imagination.

Tommy moved on. "Lash, your people have been oppressed for hundreds of years. It's time to strike back. Look, you don't have your MBA yet - they haven't completely juiced you of your usefulness yet. Would Martin Luther King back down from this challenge? Malcolm X? James Brown? Don't you have a dream? Don't you feel good, like you knew that you would, now?

He loved constantly, instantly, spontaneously, without thought or words. That's what he taught me. Love is not something you think about, it is a state in which you dwell. That was his gift.

I think there was always some scrawny dreamer sitting at the edge of the firelight, who had the ability to imagine dangers, to look into the future in his imagination and see possibilities, and therefore survived to pass his genes on to the next generation.

Devil's Food?" You can only eat so much white cake, my friend.

If they'd been dogs, they would have all been in the yard eating grass and trying to yak up whatever was making them feel so lousy. Not a bone gnawed, not a ball chased-all tails went unwagged. Oh, life is a fast cat, a short leash, a flea in that place where you just can't scratch.

They want to be tied up, I tie them up. They want to be spanked, I spank them. They want to be called names, I call them names. But try and drink a little of their blood, and they scream like babies. What about my needs?

All killer whales are named Kevin. You knew that, right?

Actually, orcas aren't quite as complex as scientists imagine. Most killer whales are just four tons of doofus dressed up like a police car.

We know there's going to be nothing but pain, but we go back again and again.

When I teach seminars, I tell people, Your stuff has to look like something thats out there, because otherwise nobody will take a chance on you.

It's like time travel only, you know, slower.

Blessed are the meek, for to them we shall say "attaboy".

Most of us don't live our lives with one, integrated self that meets the world, we're a whole bunch of selves.

We Ask the Gods for Answers and They Give Us Questions

Like most Beta Males, he didn't realize that being a good guy was not necessarily an attraction to women.

Life is loneliness, broken only by the gods taunting us with friendship and the odd bonk

We really have to get going," Sam said. "Can we leave the car here and pick it up later?" The monk said, "Does a dog have a Buddha nature?" Does a fish have a watertight asshole?" said Coyote.

Ack! Parables. I hate parables.

He invented Kung Fu when translated to English means method by which short, bald guys can kick the bejeezus out of you.

Compliment but do not covet.

Children see magic because they look for it.

Oh, we are but soft and squishy bags of mortality rolling in a bin of sharp circumstance, leaking life until we collapse, flaccid, into our own despair.

The pursuit of material gain is ultimately empty when measured against eternity.

Oh, I get it," I said. "It's a parable. Cute. Let's go eat.

The netherworld is timeless and unchanging, and boring -- much like a doctor's waiting room.

For a while he'd tried molding himself into the tragic Romantic hero, brooding and staring clench-jawed off into space as he composed dark verse in his head. But it turned out that trying to appear tragic in Incontinence, Indiana, was redundant, and his mother kept shouting at him and making him forget his rhymes. "Tommy, if you keep grinding your teeth like that, they'll wear away and you'll have to have dentures like Aunt Ester." Tommy only wished his beard was as heavy as Aunt Ester's---then he could stare out over the moors while he stroked it pensively.