Sorry, man, you do not have the key. You left it with Nyssa for safe-keeping, and the Monarch has taken her prisoner. You must free her and get the key before you can go anywhen.
You’re not the boss of me!
Obviously. If I was the boss of you, you would still have the key.
I have neither a key nor a clue. I’m fine with that.
Could you use a clue-by-four?
I have a clue AND a key.
I’ll be waiting for you quayside.
I’ll be there too. Just to watch.
Watch me pull a rabbit out of this hat!
One thread makes you larger
And one thread makes you small
I am [not] the dormouse!
Feed your thread
Feed your thread
Feed your thread
When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy thread
(Hey, it makes as much sense as the original lyric.)
When the thread is found, to be lies.
And every post within it dies
Don’t you want somebody to post
Don’t you need somebody to post
You gotta find somebody to post
“Well, they believe that when they have listed all His [threads] — and they reckon that there are about nine billion of them — God’s purpose will be achieved. The human race will have finished what it was created to do, and there won’t be any point in carrying on. Indeed, the very idea is something like blasphemy.” “Then what do they expect us to do? Commit suicide?” “There’s no need for that. When the list’s completed, God steps in and simply winds things up… bingo!” “Oh, I get it. When we finish our job, it will be the end of the world.” Chuck gave a nervous little laugh. “That’s just what I said to Sam. And do you know what happened? He looked at me in a very queer way, like I’d been stupid in class, and said, ’It’s nothing as trivial as that.’
And death fell softly from the summer sky.
There is always a last time for everything.