Humans aren’t as you idealized them, Blanda. Humans are dream-killers. They took the bubbles out of soapsuds, Blanda, and called it detergent. They took the moonlight out of romance and called it sex. The Silver Eggheads (1962)
Their feeble attempts to appear concerned only made them look to him more like two fat cats full of stolen cream and with a map of the secret tunnel leading to the meat locker tucked inside their fur vests. The Silver Eggheads (1962)
"Excuse me, Gaspard,” Flaxman interjected, “but would you mind turning the emotional down and the factual up?” The Silver Eggheads (1962)