what

Silas consumed only one food, and it was not bananas.

I would feel infinitely more comfortable in your presence if you would agree to treat gravity as a law, rather than one of a number of suggested options.

The Marquis sighed. "I thought it was just a legend," he said. "Like the alligators in the sewers of New York City."Old Bailey nodded, sagely: "What, the big white buggers? They're down there. I had a friend lost a head to one of them." A moment of silence. Old Naeiley handed the statue back to the Marquis. Then he raised his hand, and snapped it, like a crocodile hand, at the Carabas. "It was OK," gurned Old Bailey with a grin that was most terrible to behold. "He had another.

Gee-word?""Gods. What were you doin' the day they handed out brains, boy, anyway?""Someone was telling a story about stealing a tiger's balls, and I had to stop and find out how it ended.

Now me,” said Mr. Vandemar.“What number am I thinking of?” “I beg your pardon?” “What number am I thinking of?” repeated Mr. Vandemar. “It’s between one and a lot,” he added, helpfully.

Sexton: I think the whole world's gone mad.Death: Uh-uh. It's always like this. You probably just don't get out enough.

He opened the desk drawer, finding nothing but small pots of paint (used for brightening up antiques) and a paintbrush. He wondered if he would be able to throw paint in the man’s face, and blind him for long enough to escape. He opened the top of a pot of paint and dipped in his finger.

Silas said, “Out there, the man who killed your family is, I believe, still looking for you, still intends to kill you.”Bod shrugged. “So?” he said. “It’s only death. I mean, all of my best friends are dead.