“She folded her arms and then shouted, "Right you thieving scunners! How dare you steal Miss Treason's funeral meats!""Oh, waily, waily, it's the foldin' o' the arms, the foooldin' o' the aaaarmss!" cried Daft Wullie, dropping to the ground and trying to cover himself with leaves. Around him Feegles started to wail and cower and Big Yan began to bang his head on the rear wall of the dairy.”

“Stop stealing the funeral meats right now, you wee scuggers!" She shouted.The Feegles stopped and stared at her. Then Rob Anybody said: "Socks wi'oot feets?”

“Waily-Waily!”

“Even in a dream, even at a posh ball, the Nac Mac Feegle knew how to behave. You charged in madly, and you screamed... politely."Lovely weather for the time o' year, is it not, ye wee scunner!""Hey, jimmy, ha' ye no got a pommes frites for an ol'pal?""The band is playin' divinely, I dinna think!""Make my caviar deep-fried, wilya?”

“I'm trying to have a moment o' existential dreed here, right? Crivens, it's a puir lookout if a man canna feel the chilly winds o' fate lashing aroound his netheres wi'out folks telling him he's deid, eh?”

“Whut's the plan, Rob?" said one of them. "Okay, lads, this is what we'll do. As soon as we see somethin', we'll attack it. Right?"This caused a cheer."Ach, 'tis a good plan," said Daft Wullie.”

“It was no use getting angry with Wullie; he lived in a Wullie-shaped world of his own. You had to think diagonally.”