Granny Weatherwaz Was A Witch. That Was

It Is A Popular Fact That Nine-tenths Of The Brain Is Not Used And, Like Most Popular Facts, It Is Wrong. Not Even The Most Stupid Creator Would Go To The Trouble Of Making The Human Head Carry Around Several Pounds Of Unnecessary Gray Goo If Its Only Real Purpose Was, For Example, To Serve As A Delicacy For Certain Remote Tribesmen In Unexplored Valleys.

It's Beautiful," Said Mort Softly. "what Is It?" The Sun Is Under The Disc, Said Death. "is It Like This Every Night?" Every Night, Said Death. Nature's Like That. "doesn't Anyone Know?" Me. You. The Gods. Good, Isn't It? "gosh!" Death Leaned Over The Saddle And Looked Down At The Kingdoms Of The World. I Don't Know About You, He Said, But I Could Murder A Curry.

You Are Very Clever," Said The Old Man Shyly. "i Would Like To Eat Your Brains, One Day.

Truthfully, Without Over-egging It, As I Often Do, The Library And Journalism, Those Things Made Me Who I Am.

Funny, Reely," He Said. "you Spend Your Whole Life Goin' To School And Learnin' Stuff, And They Never Tell You About Stuff Like The Bermuda Triangle And Ufos And All These Old Masters Running Around The Inside Of The Earth. Why Do We Have To Learn Boring Stuff When There's All This Brilliant Stuff We Could Be Learnin', That's What I Want To Know.