I like an escalator, because an escalator can never break, it can only become stairs. You would never see an "Escalator Temporarily Out Of Order" sign, just an, "Escalator Temporarily Stairs. Sorry for the convenience. We apologize for the fact that you can still get up there."

I like an escalator because an escalator can never break, it can only become stairs.

An escalator can never break: it can only become stairs. You should never see an ‘Escalator Temporarily Out Of Order sign,’ just ‘Escalator Temporarily Stairs. Sorry for the convenience.

Escalators are the offspring of elevators and stairs. Love is the progeny of passion and admiration.

Not unnaturally, many elevators imbued with intelligence and precognition became terribly frustrated with the mindless business of going up and down, up and down, experimented briefly with the notion of going sideways, as a sort of existential protest, demanded participation in the decision-making process and finally took to squatting in basements sulking.

An impoverished hitch-hiker visiting any planets in the Sirius star system these days can pick up easy money working as a counsellor for neurotic elevators.

L'esprit de l'escalier

Interestingly, two hundred years later and twenty light years away, people still behaved the same in elevators as they did in Original Bob’s day. Everyone turned to face the doors, and ignored each other.

David Ricardo saw that the escalator worked with different effects on different classes, that some rode triumphantly to the top, while others were carried up a few steps and then kicked back down to the bottom.

The elevator to Health, Happiness, and Success is “out of order.” You’ll have to use the stairs, one step at a time,

Life is like an elevator. On your way up, sometimes you have to stop and let some people off.

Esprit de l'escalier: spirit of the staircase, wishing you'd said, wishing you'd done. Yet how much more indelible it was when the staircase was the staircase that led to the bedroom.

The elevator to success is out of order. You'll have to use the stairs... one step at a time.

There is no elevator to success, you have to take the stairs

The elevator continued its impossibly slow ascent. Or at least I imagined it was ascent. There was no telling for sure: it was so slow that all sense of direction simply vanished. It could have been going down for all I knew, or maybe it wasn’t moving at all. But let’s just assume it was going up. Merely a guess. Maybe I’d gong up twelve stories, then down three. Maybe I’d circled the globe. How would I know?