-Gods Final Words To His Creation:

"We apologize for the inconvenience."


- "Here," said Wonko the Sane, "we are outside the Asylum." He pointed again at the rough brickwork, the pointing, and the gutters [on this side of the house, which was in fact, outside, but of its own space then the rest of the world]. "Go through the door" - he pointed at the first door through which they had originally entered - "and you go into the Asylum. I've tried to decorate it nicely to keep the inmates happy, but there's very little one can do. I never go in myself. If ever I am tempted, which these days I rarely am, I simply look at the sign written over the door and I shy away."
The Sign Read:
"Hold stick near center of its length. Moisten pointed end in mouth. Insert in tooth space, blunt end next to gum. Use in gentle in-out motion."
"It seemed to me," said Wonko the Sane, "that any civilization that had so far lost its head as to need to include a set of detailed instructions for use in a package of toothpicks, was no longer a civilization in which I could live and stay sane in."



- "I'm a scientist and I know what constitutes proof. But the reason I call myself by my childhood name is to remind myself that a scientist must also be absolutely like a child. If he sees a thing, he must say that he sees it, whether it was what he thought it was going see or not. See first, think later, then test. But always see first. Otherwise you will only see what you were expecting. Most scientists forget that. So, the reason I call myself Wonko the Sane is so that people will think I am a fool. That allows me to say what I see when I see it. You can't possibly be a scientist if you mind people thinking you're a fool."

-In Santa Barbara they stopped at a fish restaurant in what seemed to be a converted warehouse.
Fenchurch had a red mullet and said it was delicious.
Author had a swordfish steak and said it made him angry. He grabbed a passing waitress by the arm and berated her.
"Why's this fish so bloody good?" he demanded, angrily.
"Please excuse my friend," said Fenchurch to the startled waitress. "I Think he's having a nice day at last."

-"When he sat in his deck chair gazing at the Pacific, not so much with any kind of wild surmise any longer as with a peaceful deep dejection, it was a little difficult to tell exactly where the deck chair ended and he began, and you would hesitate to put your hand on, say, his forearm in case the whole structure suddenly collapsed with a snap and took your thumb off. But his smile when he turned it on you was quite remarkable. It seemed to be composed of all the worst things that life can do to you, but which when briefly reassembled them in that particular order on his face made you suddonly feel "Oh. Well, that's all right then."


...Feel better?