“But they're already singing our praises!""They are Americans. They toot their horns for anything.”

“Sprinkled across the black waters below were at least a hundred small boats set out to greet the Leviathan, their navigation lights like shifting stars. Among them loomed a glittering cruise liner, her fog horn bellowing in the night. The low groan grew into a chorus as the other great ships in the harbor joined in.Perched on Volger's desk, Bovril attempted to imitate the horns, but wound up sounding like a badly blown tuba.Alek smiled. "But they're already singing our praises!""They are Americans," Volger said. "They toot their horns for anything.”

“If you don't toot your own horn, don't complain that there's no music.”

“Just because a guy rings your bell, doesn't mean you have to toot his horn.”

“Don't depend on anyone else to toot your horn. I mean, do you really want their lips on it, anyway?”

“I'll be singing hymns to the rafters, be praising His goodness so loud they're going to have to turn down the volume in Heaven.”