“Can you imagine anything more tragic?” Rose asked. “To be born a princess–native and to the manor born–and then to forget who you are and settle for being something horrible like an–an accountant!”
“…If you’d take your head home and boil it for a turnip it might be useful. I can’t say. But it might.” — Sunday(?), G. K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday
“I had never seen a camel at point-blank range, let alone dozens all at the same time; nor heard worse honking and groaning since the day Uncle Evariste sprained his back.” -- Lloyd Alexander,