So you’ve been off filling the children’s heads with stuff and nonsense?
Of course not. It’s a real fine collection of stuffed animals.
She’s a stuffed animal, Emma! Now you’ve got to stop it with this “Mimzy” stuff.
“Mama, he can talk!”
“Of course he can talk.”
I have made myself articulate and understood to people in many parts of the world, and this is something we all wish to do whether we’re crippled or not. Yet, like everyone else, I am acutely conscious sometimes of my own isolation, even in the midst of people. And I often give up hope of ever being able to really communicate with them. It is not only the sort of isolation that every writer or artist must experience in the creative mood if he is to create anything at all.
You’re a good writer, Skeeter.
There’s always a speech.
Why is there always someone who brings eggs and tomatoes to a speech?
“I didn’t come here to be insulted!”
“That’s what you think!”
Shoo, fly, don’t bother me.
I drink your milkshake.
Hey, yo, Florence, could I have some french fries with gravy, please.
Did you assign Miss Nightingale to this hospital?
Are you crazy, you little son of a bitch?!
Why… so… serious?
The Octopus always finds his nemesis so distracting.
Dude… you’re not my nemesis. My nemesis… is Captain Hammer. Captain Hammer, corporate tool, who dislocated my shoulder… again… last week. Look, I’m just trying to change the world here! I don’t have time for a grudge match with every poser in a parka!
“Hammer! Hammer!”
“Yeah, we can tell you’re hammered.”
Are you Thor, the god of hammers?
Well, I was Ramon, twenty years ago, when father decided it wasn’t quite masculine enough, so he shipped me off to sea in a British frigate. They say the navy makes men. Well, I’m living proof they made me.