“The Flying Spaghetti Monster made the platypus because, unlike scientists, He has a sense of humor. It’s an unlikely sign from God--and until someone can prove me wrong, that’s my theory.”
“Traffic always stops for Simon- he never has to wait while cars keep tearing past. Sometimes he’ll give the drivers a wave and a bow, and say, ‘Thank you, my loyal subjects.’ He’s an expert in being embarrassing.”
“It’s easy to forget that Simon’s not going to live on like the rest of us. A few MD patients get mentally affected, but Simon’s so quick, and he’s got such a wicked sense of humor, that once you know him you hardly notice he’s in a wheelchair...”
“The thing to do is as follows. First, Issue a Reward. Then——”
“Just a moment,” said Pooh, holding up his paw. “What do we do to this—what you were saying? You sneezed just as you were going to tell me.”
“I didn’t sneeze.”
“Yes, you did, Owl.”
“Excuse me, Pooh, I didn’t. You can’t sneeze without knowing it.”
“Well, you can’t know it without something having been sneezed.”
“What I said was, ‘First Issue a Reward’.”
“You’re doing it again,” said Pooh sadly.
Little Chandler remembered (and the remembrance brought a slight flush of pride to his cheek) one of Ignatius Gallaher’s sayings when he was in a tight corner:
“Half time now, boys,” he used to say light-heartedly. “Where’s my considering cap?”
That was Ignatius Gallaher all out; and, damn it, you couldn’t but admire him for it.
She looked like a woman of narrow experience and rigid conscience, which she was; but there was a saving something about her mouth which, if it had been ever so slightly developed, might have been considered indicative of a sense of humor.