Preachers in pulpits talked about what a great message is in the book. No matter what you do, somebody always imputes meaning into your books.

With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

You can get so confused that you'll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place. The Waiting Place.

I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living.

We've taught you that the earth is round, That red and white make pink, And something else that matters more - We've taught you how to think.

I know it is wet and the sun is not sunny, but we can have lots of good fun that is funny.

Thank goodness for all the things you are not, thank goodness you're not something someone forgot, and left all alone in some punkerish place, like a rusty tin coat hanger hanging in space.