“Places change imperceptibly – in detail, at least – a good deal,' said the Doctor, making an effort to keep up a conversation that plainly would not go on itself; 'and people too; population shifts – there's an old fellow, sir, they call Death.”

“Sit down, Will. There’s a good fellow,” he said.“Yes, sir,” replied Will, and Halt’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.“He’s never called me sir,” he said.“Probably trying to get on my good side,” Crowley replied.Halt nodded savagely. “Probably.”

“My idea of good company...is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company.' 'You are mistaken,' said he gently, 'that is not good company, that is the best.”

“The old order changes, giving place to the new... least on good custom should corrupts the world.”

“My idea of good company, Mr. Eliot, is the company of clever, well-informed people who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company.”

“I'm not going to make a big deal about a few tummy flutters because...dead people, old people, even furniture would get butterflies if they met this guy.”