Send them home as merry as crickets. - François Rabelais

"High and mighty guzzlers, and you, O all you precious pox-ridden — while you have the leisure and I have nothing else more important to do, let me ask you a question: why does everybody say, as if it were proverbially true, that the world is no longer flat? Understand, please, that "flat" here means "without zest, unsalted, insipid, washed-out": taking it metaphorically, it signifies "crazy, foolish, senseless, rot-brained." Would you argue, as indeed one might logically infer, that if we say that the world has been flat, now we have to say that it's become wise? What was it that made it flat? Why was it flat? Why should it be wise? What do you think ancient stupidity was? What do you think constitutes our present wisdom? What made it flat? What has made it wise? Are there more lovers of flatness or more lovers of wisdom? Just exactly when was it flat? Just exactly when was it wise? Who's responsible for that earlier flatness? Who's responsible for that later wisdom? Why did that ancient flatness end right now, and not at some other time? Why did our present wisdom begin right now, and not sooner? What harm did our earlier flatness do us? What good is this new wisdom? How did we get rid of our ancient flatness? How was our present wisdom brought about?"

As soon as he was born, he cried not as other babes use to do, Miez, miez, miez, miez, but with a high, sturdy, and big voice shouted about, Some drink, some drink, some drink, as inviting all the world to drink with him. The noise hereof was so extremely great, that it was heard in both the countries at once of Beauce and Bibarois. I doubt me, that you do not thoroughly believe the truth of this strange nativity. Though you believe it not, I care not much: but an honest man, and of good judgment, believeth still what is told him, and that which he finds written.

A propos truelle, pourquoi est-ce que les cuisses d'une damoiselle sont toujours fraîches ? — Ce problème, dit Gargantua, n'est ni en Aristotèles, ni en Alexandre Aphrodisé, ni en Plutarque. — C'est, dit le moine, pour trois causes, par lesquelles un lieu est naturellement rafraîchi. Primo pour ce que l'eau décourt tout du long; secundo, pour ce que c'est un lieu ombrageux, obscur et ténébreux, auquel jamais le soleil ne luit, et tiercement pour ce qu'il est continuellement éventé des vents du trou bise, de chemise, et d'abondant de la braguette.