“My lawyer’s name is Mr. Dentist. I have him on retainer. The police may think I’m crooked, but my teeth sure are straight!”
“My name is Mr. Potatohead, and I’m looking for my wife. But I fear I’m too late, and that she’s already part of some combo meal somewhere.”
“You get my idea. Nothing of "artistic" literature about it, just straight medicine, a universal panacea, a fetish in a sense: if you have a toothache go to your dentist and ask him if he is Dada.”
“Richard opened his hand, and the key stared up at him from his palm. "By my crooked teeth," asked Richard, remembering, "who am I?”
“You may think I’m small, but I have a universe inside my mind.”
“Mr. St. Maur will help me make a most excellent match. Perhaps you should retain him as well."Minerva shook her head at the pair of them. "A man will have to fall out of the sky and into my bedroom before I marry him.”