“Well, Mr. Antichrist, that’s all for the present!”

“I would like you to have it, Mr. Wells" he said, presenting him with the basket,"to remind you that everything is a question of wills”

“Perhaps Mr. Grey insists on all his employees being blonde. I’m wondering idly if that’s legal.”

“Well, that’s that, then. We’re all going to die. Charming.”

“There was a time when a new deputy tried to teach Mr. Fruit about the difference between a red and a green light, but Mr. Fruit had resisted all efforts to reorder what he had been doing perfectly well for many years. He had not only monitored the comings and goings of the town, his presence softened the ingrained evil that flourished along the invisible margins of the town’s consciousness. Any community can be judged in its humanity or corruption by how it manages to accommodate the Mr. Fruits of the world. Colleton simply adjusted itself to Mr. Fruit’s harmonies and ordinations. He did whatever he felt was needed and he did it with style. “That’s the Southern way” my grandmother said. “That’s the nice way.”

“Well,' I shrug, all innocent, 'we all ride our little hobbyhorses, don't we, Mr. Peel?”