“Little Red, Little Red, what's in the chip bag, Little Red?" And in the same singsong voice I answered, "Nothing at all, Nothing at all, Nothing at all but your grandpa's head.”

“But all this was nothing compared to the face which I regret to say vaguely resembled my own, less the refinement of course, same little abortive moustache, same little ferrety eyes, same paraphimosis of the nose, and a thin red mouth that looked as if it was raw from trying to shit its tongue.”

“Little red wagon, little red bike, I ain’t no monkey but I know what I like.”

“Fear isn't so difficult to understand. After all, weren't we all frightened as children? Nothing has changed since Little Red Riding Hood faced the big bad wolf. What frightens us today is exactly the same sort of thing that frightened us yesterday. It's just a different wolf. This fright complex is rooted in every individual.”

“I looked long and hard for the paper roses! I found the reddest red ribbon, and a little golden card! We were all there together, many of us, in the same place; but I was the only one who found the paper roses, the only one who chose the reddest red ribbon, and the only one who topped off with a golden card. And so I learned that if people are unhappy, it is only because they don't know how to look for the paper roses, they don't see the reddest red ribbon, and they don't like the little golden cards. We are all in the same wrap-shoppe in this life. But we are different. Because some of us are looking for the paper roses, choosing the reddest red ribbon, and picking up the little golden cards.”

“Thinking little at all about nothing in particular.”