Most gods throw dice, but Fate plays chess, and you don't find out til too late that he's been playing with two queens all along.

You'll see! We're going to the palace. Fetch Angua. We might need her. And bring the search warrant. You mean the sledgehammer, sir? Yes.

Aziraphale. The Enemy, of course. But an enemy for six thousand years now, which made him a sort of friend.

Picture a tall, dark figure, surrounded by cornfields... NO, YOU CAN'T RIDE A CAT. WHO EVER HEARD OF THE DEATH OF RATS RIDING A CAT? THE DEATH OF RATS WOULD RIDE SOME KIND OF DOG. Picture more fields, a great horizon-spanning network of fields, rolling in gentle waves... DON'T ASK ME I DON'T KNOW. SOME KIND OF TERRIER, MAYBE. ...fields of corn, alive, whispering in the breeze... RIGHT, AND THE DEATH OF FLEAS CAN RIDE IT TOO. THAT WAY YOU KILL TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE. ...awaiting the clockwork of the seasons. METAPHORICALLY.

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

And what had he wanted? He'd never sat down to think about it. But mostly, he wanted yesterday to be different from today.

Everyone should occasionally break the law in some small and delightful way. It's good for the hygiene of the brain.