“If you've got some hopelessly overmatched heroes fighting evil and some Imperial types marching, John Williams is your guy. You need a song to make people reach for a box of Kleenex, talk to Randy Newman. But if you want creepy atmospherics and spine-shivering chords to back up your casual death threats, you gotta bring in Danny Elfman.”

“-“Say no more,” Leif interrupted. “I understand. I will simply have to kill them all myself.”-"There he goes again. I’m telling you, Danny Elfman would love to get hold of those lines."-"Not John Williams?"-"If you’ve got some hopelessly overmatched heroes fighting evil and some Imperial types marching, John Williams is your guy. You need a song to make people reach for a box of Kleenex, talk to Randy Newman. But if you want creepy atmospherics and spine-shivering chords to back up your casual death threats, you gotta bring in Danny Elfman.”

“Some guys are the type of people who bring brass knuckles to a fight. I've always thought it prudent to bring some running shoes.”

“Here’s the life lesson I’ve learned, Fifi: Some people are born to play the hero, and some are born to play the bad guy. Fighting your destiny only makes life harder than it needs to be. Besides, people remember the villain long after they’ve forgotten the hero.”

“Guy struck a jangling chord on the keyboards and then another. 'You know,' he announced, sitting back and crossing his arms. 'We need some new material. We’ve got to write some new songs.''Like what?'He shrugged. 'I don’t know. Throw out some ideas.''Love! Death! Existential struggle!' Emily intoned dramatically, rattling out a drumroll. 'Agriculture!”

“If you want your tree to produce plenty o' fruit, you've got to cut it back from time to time. Same thing with your neural cells. Some people might call it brain damage. I call it prunin'.”