Christopher Moore Quotes

King Lear: What is your name?
Kent / Caius: Caius.
King Lear: And whence do you hale?
Kent / Caius: From Bonking, Sire.
King Lear: Well, yes, lad as do we all.

You think you know how this story is going to end, but you don't. Trust me, I was there. I know.

Great heroes have Great horniness.

King Lear: How hath my fool offended?
Regan: He hath shagged me roughly, against my will, and finished too soon.
King Lear: By force- Pocket? He isn't eight-stone on a feast day- he couldn't shag a cat by force.
Pocket: That's not true, sire. If the cat is distracted with a trout, then - well, uh, never mind.

Sin is moist make a mental note.

Moses should have said "Let my people go. Please."

Regardless of its purpose, the humpback-whale song is the most complex piece of nonhuman composition on earth. Whether it's art, prayer, or booty call, the humpback song is an amazing thing to experience firsthand, and I suspect that even once the science of it is put to bed, it will remain, as long as they sing, magic.

Regan: Smell him. He reeks of sex, like fish and mushroom and sweat, doesn't he?
Pocket: Aye, your honor, I'm sure I have an odor about me. I must confess, I was sans trou today in the kitchen, while awaiting my laundry. Bubble had left a casserole out on the floor to cool, and it did trip me and I fell prick-deep in gravy and goo- but I was on my way to chapel at the time.
King Lear: [To Pocket] You put your dick in my lunch?
King Lear: [to the bailiff] The fool put his dick in my lunch?
Regan: No, in your beloved daughter.
King Lear: Quiet, girl! Captain Curran, send a guard to watch the bread and the cheese before the fool has his way with it.

The Ghost: I'm sorry to haunt you while you're rogering the help.
Pocket: The rogering has not commenced, wisp. I have barely bridled the horse for a moist and bawdy ride. Now, go away!

Cordelia: You honor us, Fool. Did you hear rumors of small animals to hurt or were you hoping to accidentally surprise me in my bath again?
Pocket: I was lost, Milady.
Cordelia: A dozen times?

When the oil of the lamp is used up the wanker shall light his own way to salvation.

And so that is the story of how St. Rufus of Pipewrench was licked to death by marmots.

Fancy a spot of stony bonking before vespers?

And once I shagged Regan on a platter of pork in front of Muslims.

I fink I gots deaf on me willie.