Quotes from Christopher Moore

Four identical brushes loaded with different colors poked through the fingers of his left hand, as if he had snatched some great, gangly insect out of the air and its multicolored legs were shot with rigor mortis or surprise.

Strum one chord on that thing, you bellowing cow, and I will beat you to death with it and dismember your corpse with the strings.

It happens again and again. I've seen people come out of a coma and sing their favorite songs, and all I can tell you is to enjoy it. People see the light come back into eyes that have been dull for months, and they start to place hope on it. It's not a sign of getting well, it's an opportunity to say good-bye. It's a gift.

Without the past, where is the guilt? And without the future, where is the dread? And without guilt and dread, who am I?

Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundlessness. Thereby, you can be the director of the opponent's fate.

She looked at him—those wide blue eyes—with sort of an odd, glazed look. Not with the adoration or wonder that you might expect, more like she'd been drinking and would be leaving as soon as she found her car keys.

While Charlie's Beta Male imagination may have often turned him toward timidity and even paranoia, when it came to accepting the unacceptable it served him like Kevlar toilet paper—bulletproof, if a tad disagreeable in application.

Like any great speech, the Sermon on the Mount sounds as if it just happened spontaneously, but actually Joshua and I worked on it for over a week

With influence comes power, with power, abuse. Jakan was only the son of a Pharisee. He was only two years older than Joshua and me, but he was well on his way to mastering cruelty. If there is a single joy in having everyone you have ever known two thousand years dead, it is that Jakan is one of them. May his fat crackle in the fires of hell for eternity!

A question asked in earnest, deserves an earnest answer.

He had broken one of the cardinal rules—Never go to bed with anyone crazier than yourself—and he'd been loving life ever since. They

You don't have to explain why a character pulled the kid from the freezing river, but there better be a pretty good reason why he held that kid under.

chaos is the condition between order and disorder, the transition between one system and another.

Out came an extraordinarily complex network of plastic, brass, and stainless-steel tubing, which in seconds Kona had assembled into what Quinn thought was either a very small and elegant linear particle accelerator or, more likely, the most complex bong ever constructed.

Oh, good sir," said Bottom. "I knew as soon as I saw your fool's motley you would bring skill and grand disaster to our play.

He was continually surprised at the speed and accuracy of her creepiness. She was like some creepiness child prodigy

I live in Chinatown," said Charlie, and although that was technically kinda-sorta true, he knew how to say exactly three things in Mandarin: Good day; light starch, please; and I am an ignorant white devil, all taught to him by Mrs. Ling. He believed the last to translate to "top of the morning to you.

Abby jumped into the Prius. Lily bundled the defibrillator into her friend's lap, then jumped in the Prius's back door behind her. "Go! Go! Go!" And with all the roaring fury of a golf cart escaping the back nine, they sped into the traffic

I'm Asian." She wasn't Asian, but there would be a metric fuckload of Asian girls on the bridge for him to think were her. "Ten minutes. Don't jump, okay?

Relájate, no puede comérselo. Ni siquiera tiene dientes. Y, además, no hay ningún Teletubby gimiendo de placer al otro lado. Ay, Dios, voy a necesitar un buen trago de tequila para quitarme esa imagen dé la cabeza.

I won't hurt him," said the oaf, so inept in the lie that he might as well have tied bells on the truth and chased it around the town square while beating a drum.

Well, one guy died because of something I said to him, and another had a heart attack because of something I did. A death that results from your actions is basically killing someone, unless you're a politician, right? So why me?

he'll tell me useless angel stories—of how Gabriel disappeared once for sixty years and they found him on earth hiding in the body of a man named Miles Davis, or how Raphael snuck out of heaven to visit Satan and returned with something called a cell phone. (Evidently everyone has them in hell now.) He watches the television and when they show an earthquake or a tornado he'll say, "I destroyed a city with one of those once. Mine was better.

She turned her head and there was such sadness, such kindness in her pity for me, that I knew at once how the bold Othello, pirate and soldier—that hard, scarred, killing thing—had lost his heart.