1
" For millions of years flowers have been producing thorns. For millions of years sheep have been eating them all the same. And it's not serious, trying to understand why flowers go to such trouble to produce thorns that are good for nothing? It's not important, the war between the sheep and the flowers? It's no more serious and more important than the numbers that fat red gentleman is adding up? Suppose I happen to know a unique flower, one that exists nowhere in the world except on my planet, one that a little sheep can wipe out in a single bite one morning, just like that, without even realizing what he'd doing - that isn't important? If someone loves a flower of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that's enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself 'My flower's up there somewhere...' But if the sheep eats the flower, then for him it's as if, suddenly, all the stars went out. And that isn't important? "
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry , The Little Prince
5
" It’s sarcasm, Josh.”
“Sarcasm?”
“It’s from the Greek, sarkasmos. To bite the lips. It means that you aren’t really saying what you mean, but people will get your point. I invented it, Bartholomew named it.”
“Well, if the village idiot named it, I’m sure it’s a good thing.”
“There you go, you got it.”
“Got what?”
“Sarcasm.”
“No, I meant it.”
“Sure you did.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“Irony, I think.”
“What’s the difference?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“So you’re being ironic now, right?”
“No, I really don’t know.”
“Maybe you should ask the idiot.”
“Now you’ve got it.”
“What?”
“Sarcasm. "
― Christopher Moore , Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal
10
" Close your eyes and picture it. Can you see it?" I nod, eyes closed. its texture, shape, and color—got it?" I smile, holding the image in my head. its contours with the tips of your fingers, cradle its weight in the palms of your hands, then combine all of your senses—sight, touch, smell, taste—can you taste it?" I bite my lip and suppress a giggle. it!" he says.So I do. I do all of those things. And when he groans, I open my eyes to see for myself.. This isn't even close." " Nope, nothing fruity about him." I laugh, smiling ateach of my Damens—the replica I manifested before me, and the flesh and blood version beside me. Both of them equally tall, dark, and so devastatingly handsome they hardly seem real. "
