Life! Don't talk to me about life!

Mr L Prosser was, as they say, only human. In other words he was a carbon-based life form descended from an ape. More specifically he was forty, fat and shabby and worked for the local council. Curiously enough, though he didn't know it, he was also a direct male-line descendant of Genghis Khan, though intervening generations and racial mixing had so juggled his genes that he had no discernible Mongoloid characteristics, and the only vestiges left in Mr L Prosser of his mighty ancestry were a pronounced stoutness about the tum and a predilection for little fur hats.

I'd far rather be happy than right any day.

There was a terribly ghastly silence. There was a terribly ghastly noise. There was a terribly ghastly silence.

There are two things in particular that it [the computer industry] failed to foresee: one was the coming of the Internet(...); the other was the fact that the century would end.

He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher... or, as his wife would have it, an idiot.

If we see you smoking we will assume you are on fire and take appropriate action.