“And gears," said Anathema. "My bike didn't have gears. I'm sure my bike didn't have gears."Crowley leaned over to the angel. "Oh lord, heal this bike," he whispered sarcastically."I'm sorry, I just got carried away," hissed Aziraphale.”

“Anyway, it's like with bikes,' said the first speaker authoritatively. 'I thought I was going to get this bike with seven gears and one of them razorblade saddles and purple paint and everything, and they gave me this light blue one. With a basket. A girl's bike.''Well. You're a girl,' said one of the others.'That's sexism, that is. Going around giving people girly presents just because they're a girl.”

“Life is like a 10-speed bike. Most of us have gears we never use.”

“Got to be worth a try, I suppose," said Crowley. "It's not as if I haven't got lots of other work to do, God knows."His forehead creased for a moment, and then he slapped the steering wheel triumphantly."Ducks!" he shouted."What?""That's what water slides off!"Aziraphale took a deep breath."Just drive the car, please," he said wearily.”

“He talks pretty big for a gutter wizard," he muttered."You don't understand at all," said the wizard wearily. "I'm so scared of you my spine has turned to jelly, it's just that I'm suffering from an overdose of terror right now. I mean, when I've got over that then I'll have time to be decently frightened of you.”

“In thirty seconds you will wake up," said Aziraphale, to the entranced ex-nun. "And you will have had a lovely dream about whatever you like best, and—""Yes, yes, fine," sighed Crowley. "Now can we go?”

“Not craftsmen, my lord" he said. "I have no use for people who have learned the limits of the possible”