Quotes by Christopher Moore

Science, you dont know, looks like magic.

All killer whales are named Kevin. You knew that, right?

Everyone thinks that it was the big strong caveman who got the girl, and for the most part, that may have been true, but physical strength doesnt explain how our species created civilization. I think there was always some scrawny dreamer sitting at the edge of the firelight, who had the ability to imagine dangers, to look into the future in his imagination and see possibilities, and therefore survived to pass his genes on to the next generation. When the big ape men ended up running off the cliff or getting killed while trying to beat a mastodon into submission with a stick, the dreamer was standing back thinking Hey, that might work, but you need to run the mastodon off the cliff. And, then hed mate with the women left over after the go-getters got killed.

Stephenie Meyer: Her vampires are sparkly, which I think we can all agree is wrong.

Which isn’t, like, as bad as it sounds, because the general public kind of sucks ass.

Blessed are the meek, for to them we shall say attaboy.

...and thus he found his single source of joy in the society of other people: frightening the girls with his penis.

In business, as in politics, the public is ever so tolerant of those who slime.

The prospect of change is a many-fanged beast, my dear.

Nobodys perfect. Well, there was this one guy, but we killed him....

Don’t be so hard on yourself, You’re doing the same thing, trying to reconcile all the moms that Mom ever was - The one you wanted, the one she was when you needed her and she was there, the one she was when she didn’t understand. Most of us don’t live our lives with one, integrated self that meets the world, we’re a whole bunch of selves. When someone dies, they all integrate into the soul - the essence of who we are, beyond the different faces we wear throughout our lives. You’re just hating the selves you’ve always hated, and loving the ones you’ve always loved. It’s bound to mess you up.

The Painting is not shit, said Lucien.I know, said Henri. That was just part of the subterfuge. I am of royal lineage; subterfuge is one of the many talents we carry in our blood, along with guile and hemophilia.

Of course they wont bloody remember, theyll be dead. Then she called him a name in a dead language that translated, roughly, to poop on a stick, but sounded more succinct, like this: Of course they wont bloody remember, theyll be dead, Poopstick.

I like a girl with a substantial bottom, said Renoir, drawing in the air the size bottom he preferred.

Whistler, Manet called. Hows your mother?

Does the work get easier once you know what you are doing?Your lungs grow thick with stone dust and your eyes bleary from the sun and fragments thrown up by the chisel. You pour your lifeblood out into works of stone for Romans who will take your money in taxes to feed soldiers who will nail your people to crosses for wanting to be free. Your back breaks, your bones creak, your wife screeches at you, and your children torment you with open begging mouths, like greedy baby birds in the nest. You go to bed every night so tired and beaten that you pray to the Lord to send the angel of death to take you in your sleep so you dont have to face another morning. It also has its downside.

I tried cutting myself to express my heartbreak over Tommy (Lord Flood) rejecting me, but OMFG it hurts like flaming fuck.

What love is not torment when a man knows not how to love himself? Talk not of drowning, but attaining your hearts desire by action: Put money in thy purse.

So I am death Charlie said then turned to his daughter while buttering his toast.This is death toast sweety.

...as if someone had thrown a hand grenade into the middle of a teddy bear orgy and the only survivors had had their fur blown off.