“We've got a war going on, the demons are invading, you got implanted by the Prince of Darkness and you're worried I'll make you stick your finger up your bum and bark like a dog? This is serious!' - Mr. Fogarty”

“Boy you watch your tongue with me. Or I'll stick my foot so far up your ass the next time you go to the doctor he'll ask you how you got those boot tracks on your tonsils.”

“We wasted ten years and you're worried about a few thousand miles? Hell, we've got airplanes, we've got email, they've invented fucking cell phones. Jesus, if it comes down to it, I'll even write you a fucking letter.”

“Bottom line? The fabric of the race's society is going to unravel, and if you think that's going to help in the war, you've got your head so far up your ass you're using your colon as a mouthpiece.”

“How can I give you nothing? Do you seriously expect me to buy nothing, wrap up nothing, stick a gift tag on nothing, send a card saying I really hope you like your nothing and lie awake worrying that the nothing I got you was the right color nothing you always anted? Have a heart!”

“But that was life: Nobody got a guided tour to their own theme park. You had to hop on the rides as they presented themselves, never knowing whether you would like the one you were in line for...or if the bastard was going to make you throw up your corn dog and your cotton candy all over the place.”