In life, all he wanted was to be a ballet dancer.

Bloody cubists.

"Man's inefficiency be damned, for I doth misseth mine cheap flight to the blessed isles of Canaria, and... but stay, why dost yonder tree mockest me in its insolent posture?"

How very rude.

But what's that in your hand? Is that... a biscuit?


'Ms Banks insists that no dates be left on her headstone, in order to mildly irritate amateur historians and cemetery nitwits.'

'And I shall have my souls gift-wrapped as unto Thornton's chocolates,' saith the Lord.


Copy-editing is dead, but it won't lie down. (Under these circumstances, I would be coming back for you.)

Do you think, if you asked for a miniature statue of the guy from Slayer by your headstone, anyone would really notice?


Now he is nibbling cuttlefish in heaven. But does he know what it is to have a plethora?

I always feel like somebody's watching me. And I got no privacy. But I didn't expect it to be Boris Johnson, to be honest.

Hey, wow, man, you really made me like, think.