And he dreamed the dream of all those who publish books, which was to have so much gold in your pockets that you would have to employ two people just to hold your trousers up.

I don't think I've drunk enough beer to understand that.

There was no safety. There was no pride. All there was, was money. Everything became money, and money became everything. Money treated us as if we were things, and we died.

If the government ever imposes a tax on books - and I wouldn't put it past them - I'm in dead trouble.

Good or bad, do it as you. Too many lies and there's no truth to go back to.

The important thing about adventures, thought Mr. Bunnsy, was that they shouldn't be so long as to make you miss mealtimes.

Vampires have risen from the dead, the grave, and the crypt, but have never managed it from the cat.