The miracle of modern science. The LEP pours millions into your department, Foaly, and all you can do is send Mud Boys to the toilet.

Everything rests on the poisoned wine. If it were just the queen, I could force it down her gullet, but Declan Broekhart would run me through with that damned ceremonial sword, and if his wife's stares were daggers, he'd be dead already.

Anything else, Butler?" "The cosh, sir.

I feel like Alice falling into Wonderland. A line came to him: It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.

I have no time for babbling foolishness.” “Don’t be so hasty,” said Victor. “There’s always time for babbling.

Hit that back-stabber where it hurts, right in the ambition.

I can't imagine what they're planning. But I can tell you two things. We won't like it, and it won't be legal.