Coraline tried drawing the mist. After ten minutes of drawing she still had a white sheet of paper with "MIST" written on it one corner in slightly wiggly letters. She grunted and passed it to her mother.
"Mm. Very modern, dear," said Coraline's mother.

I would feel infinitely more comfortable in your presence if you would agree to treat gravity as a law, rather than one of a number of suggested options.

I just broke up with someone and the last thing she said to me was "You'll never find anyone like me again!" I'm thinking, "I should hope not! If I don't want you, why would I want someone like you."

No," said the cat. "Now, you people have names. That's because you don't know who you are. We know who we are, so we don't need names.

I wish being a beekeeper, which I am, gave you a free pass on the carbon footprint, but it doesn't.

I was one those kids who had books on them. Before weddings, Bar Mitzvahs, funerals and anything else where you're actually meant to not be reading, my family would frisk me and take the book away. If they didn't find it by this point in the procedure, I would be sitting over in that corner completely unnoticed just reading my book.