Цитаты из книги «Делай деньги!», страница 18

Adora Belle gave him a lopsided look. 'I thought you'd suggest that," so I ordered sheep's

head. He was overjoyed.' 'Sheep's head?' said Moist gloomily. 'You know I hate food that stares back. I won't even look

a sardine in the face.' 'He promised to blindfold it.' 'Oh, good.'

Students. Love them or hate them, you're not allowed to hit them with a shovel.

Mavolio Bent had a definition of 'silly' that most people would have considered a touch on

the broad side. Laughter was silly. Theatricals, poetry and music were silly. Clothes that

weren't grey, black or at least of undyed cloth were silly. Pictures of things that weren't real

were silly (pictures of things that were real were unnecessary). The ground state of being was

silliness, which had to be overcome with every mortal fibre. Missionaries from the stricter religions would have found in Mavolio Bent an ideal convert,

except that religion was extremely silly.

People don't mind a long queue if they can see that it's moving.

It must be about four o'clock, thought Moist. Four o'clock! I hate it when there are two four

o'clocks in the same day…

Subdivision was rife in the city now. The room was exactly twice the size of the bed, and it

was a narrow bed. Three people in here would have to know one another well. Four would

know one another well whether they wanted to or not.

Mr Bent liked counting. You could trust numbers, except perhaps for pi.

Moist looked at him over the paperwork. Claude Maximillian Overton Transpire Dibbler, a

name bigger than the man himself. Everyone knew C. M. O. T. Dibbler. He sold pies and

sausages off a tray, usually to people who were the worse for drink who then became the

worse for pies. Moist had eaten the odd pork pie and occasional sausage in a bun, however, and that very fact

interested him. There was something about the stuff that drove you back for more. There had

to be some secret ingredient, or maybe the brain just didn't believe what the taste buds told it,

and wanted to feel once again that flood of hot, greasy, not entirely organic, slightly crunchy

substances surfing across the tongue. So you bought another one. And, it had to be said, there were times when a Dibbler sausage in a bun was just what you

wanted. Sad, yet true. Everyone had moments like that. Life brought you so low that for a

vital few seconds that charivari of strange greases and worrying textures was your only friend

in all the world.

On a desert island a bag of vegetables is worth more than gold, in the city gold is more valuable than the bag of vegetables.

When you don't know what to do, comb your hair and clean your shoes.