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Take no heed of her.... She reads a lot of books.
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For a taste that's a bit more distinct, eat a bird before it's extinct.
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Love is a wonderful thing, my dear, but it leaves you wide open for blackmail.
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Mr. Pewter led them through to a library, filled with thousands of antiquarian books. 'Impressive, eh?' 'Very,' said Jack. 'How did you amass all these?' 'Well,' said Pewter, 'You know the person who always borrows books and never gives them back?' 'Yes...?' 'I'm that person.
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Cash is always the deciding factor in such matters of moral politics; nothing ever gets done unless motivated by commerce or greed.
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You speak baby gibberish?' asked Jack. 'Fluently. The adult-education center ran a course, and I have a lot of time on my hands.' 'So what did he say?' 'I don't know.' 'I thought you said you spoke gibberish?' 'I do. But your baby doesn't. I think he's speaking either pre-toddler nonsense, a form of infact burble or an obscure dialect of gobbledygook. In any event, I can't understand a word he's saying.' 'Oh.
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Okay, this is the wisdom. First, time spent on reconnaissanse is never wasted. Second, almost anything can be improved with the addition of bacon. And finally, there is no problem on Earth that can't be ameliorated by a hot bath and a cup of tea.
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Maybe those sorts of yes-or-no life-and-death decisions are easier to make because they are so black and white. I can cope with them because it's easier. Human emotions, well. . .they're just a fathomless collection of grays and I don't do so well on the midtones.
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DCI Horner's advice to Jack Spratt: "Remember, m'boy," his old boss had said, eyes twinkling, "that if anyone tries to get the better of you, stand up straight and say to yourself in an imperious air, 'I am the new Mrs. de Winter now!' You'll find it works wonders.
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There's something rotten in the state of Denmark, and Hamlet says...it's payback time!
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I loved him, officer. More than any woman ever loved an egg.
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There is a contract between the reader and the writer. The readers give me their hard-earned cash, and I have to entertain them.
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Were you listening to a word I said ' 'I kind of switched off when you drew breath.
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Individual words, sounds, squiggles on paper with no meanings other than those with which our imagination can clothe them.
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Two minds with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.
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A surfeit of information often hides an untruth,” he said, with annoying clarity.
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Fiction wouldn't be much fun without its fair share of scoundrels, and they have to live somewhere.
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A good butler should save his employer's life at least once a day.
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What is there to forgive?. . .Ignore forgive and concentrate on living. Life for you is short; far too short to allow small jealousies to infringe on the happiness which can be yours only for the briefest of times.
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We were developing a machine that used egg white, heat and sugar to synthesize methanol when a power surge caused an implosion. Owens was meringued. By the time we chipped him out the poor chap had expired.
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Yes, and imagine a world where there were no hypothetical situations.
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Apart from the faint odor of ink that pervaded the scene, it might have been real.
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The fun one can have writing books about books is limitless, to be honest.
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Reality TV was to me the worst form of entertainment--the modern equivalent of paying sixpence to watch lunatics howling at the wall down at the local madhouse.