My philosophy, like color television, is all there in black and white.

Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' swords is no basis for a system of government.

This parrot is no more. It has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late parrot. It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If you hadn't nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies. It's rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot.

Kilimanjaro is a pretty tricky climb you know, most of it's up until you reach the very very top, and then it tends to slope away rather sharply.

I'm having Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, baked beans, Spam, Spam and Spam!

McGough: I'm sorry. I'm afraid I've caught poetry. Mr Bones: Oh really? Well, don't worry, sir - I used to suffer from short stories. McGough: Really? When? Mr Bones: Oh, once upon a time...

Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?