THERE'S NO JUSTICE, said Mort. JUST US.

Colon has always thought that heroes had some special kind of clockwork that made them go out and die famously for god, country and apple pie, or whatever particular delicacy their mother made. It had never occurred to him that they might do it because they'd get yelled at if they didn't.

If there was anything that depressed him more than his own cynicism, it was that quite often it still wasn't as cynical as real life.

You know how to pray, don’t you? Just put your hands together and hope.

Next comes the realist phase ("After all, from a purely geometrical point of view a cat is only a tube with a door at the top.")

DO I DETECT A NOTE OF UNSEASONAL GRUMPINESS? said Death. NO SUGAR PIGGYWIGGY FOR YOU, ALBERT.

Bill Door was impressed. Miss Flitworth could actually give the word "revenue", which had two vowels and one diphthong, all the peremptoriness of the word "scum.