If it weren't for greed, intolerance, hate, passion and murder, you would have no works of art, no great buildings, no medical science, no Mozart, no Van Gough, no Muppets and no Louis Armstrong.
Mr. McGregor's a nasty piece of work, isn't he? Quite the Darth Vader of children's literature.
Death doesn't care about personalities - he's more interested in meeting quotas.
Don't ever call me mad, Mycroft. I'm not mad. I'm just ... well, differently moraled, that's all.
If the real world were a book, it would never find a publisher. Overlong, detailed to the point of distraction-and ultimately, without a major resolution.
Her majesty is one verb short of a sentence.
Two minds with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.
Whereas story is processed in the mind in a straightforward manner, poetry bypasses rational thought and goes straight to the limbic system and lights it up like a brushfire. It's the crack cocaine of the literary world.
Dead. Never been that before. Not even once.
I would so hate to be a first-person character! Always on your guard, always having people read your thoughts!