“I shall approach. Before taking off his hat, I shall take off my own. I shall say, "The Marquis de Saint Eustache, I believe." He will say, "The celebrated Mr. Syme, I presume." He will say in the most exquisite French, "How are you?" I shall reply in the most exquisite Cockney, "Oh, just the Syme."''Oh shut it...what are you really going to do?''But it was a lovely catechism! ...Do let me read it to you. It has only forty-three questions and answers, some of the Marquis's answers are wonderfully witty. I like to be just to my enemy.''But what's the good of it all?' asked Dr. Bull in exasperation.'It leads up to the challenge...when the Marquis as given the forty-ninth reply, which runs--''Has it...occurred to you...that the Marquis may not say all the forty-three things you have put down for him?''How true that is! ...Sir, you have a intellect beyond the common.”

“Sunday is a fixed star," he said."You shall see him a falling star," said Syme, and put on his hat.The decision of his gesture drew the Professor vaguely to his feet."Have you any idea," he asked, with a sort of benevolent bewilderment, "exactly where you are going?""Yes," replied Syme shortly, "I am going to prevent this bomb being thrown in Paris.""Have you any conception how?" inquired the other."No," said Syme with equal decision.”

“I have wondered,' said the Marquis, taking a great bite out of a slice of bread and jam, 'whether it wouldn't be better for me to do it with a knife. Most of the best things have been brought off with a knife. And it would be a new emotion to get a knife into a French President and wriggle it around.”

“I? What am I?" roared the President, and he rose slowly to an incredible height, like some enormous wave about to arch above them and break. "You want to know what I am, do you? Bull, you are a man of science. Grub in the roots of those trees and find out the truth about them. Syme, you are a poet. Stare at those morning clouds. But I tell you this, that you will have found out the truth of the last tree and the top-most cloud before the truth about me. You will understand the sea, and I shall be still a riddle; you shall know what the stars are, and not know what I am. Since the beginning of the world all men have hunted me like a wolf—kings and sages, and poets and lawgivers, all the churches, and all the philosophies. But I have never been caught yet, and the skies will fall in the time I turn to bay. I have given them a good run for their money, and I will now.”

“We must have several word-signs," said Syme seriously -- "words that we are likely to want, fine shades of meaning. My favourite word is 'coeval.' What's yours?""Do stop playing the goat," said the Professor plaintively. "You don't know how serious this is.""'Lush,' too, " said Syme, shaking his head sagaciously, "we must have ' lush' -- word applied to grass, don't you know?""Do you imagine," asked the Professor furiously, "that we are going to talk to Dr. Bull about grass?""There are several ways in which the subject could be approached," said Syme reflectively, "and the word introduced without appearing forced. We might say, ' Dr. Bull, as a revolutionist, you remember that a tyrant once advised us to eat grass; and indeed many of us, looking on the fresh lush grass of summer--"'"Do you understand," said the other, "that this is a tragedy?""Perfectly," replied Syme; "always be comic in a tragedy. What the deuce else can you do? I wish this language of yours had a wider scope. I suppose we could not extend it from the fingers to the toes? That would involve pulling off our boots and socks during the conversation, which however unobtrusively performed -- ""Syme," said his friend with a stern simplicity, "go to bed!”

“There are degrees of seriousness," replied Syme. "I have never doubted that you were perfectly sincere in this sense, that you thought what you said well worth saying, that you thought a paradox might wake men up to a neglected truth.”

“I don't want the universe broken up just yet," drawled the Marquis. "I want to do a lot of beastly things before I die. I thought of one yesterday in bed.”