Key Rabbit, allow me to bore you with a comparison of your wife and a beautiful woman, I said. In the morning a beauty must lie in bed for three or four hours gathering strength for another mighty bat...
Master Li, how are we going to murder a man who laughs at axes? I asked.We are going to , dear boy. Our first order of business will be to find a deranged alchemist, which should not be very difficult...
To cherish perfection is to commit creative suicide, and every true artist knows that a masterpiece is an accident that should be burned.
Little girls have large maternal instincts, and they take the Feast of Hungry Ghosts very seriously, and they were making their rounds with small lanterns made from candles inside rolled lotus and sag...
Miser Shen is preparing to spend the night with a goat.
Blessed are the idiots, for they are happiest people on earth.
Occasionally a moderately intelligent thought misses a turn and accidentally enters my mind
Don't be ashamed of reliving your childhood, Ox, because all of us must do it now and then to maintain our sanity.
Error can point the way to truth, while empty-headedness can only lead to more empty-headedness or to a career in politics.
Men cannot come any closer to immortality without going insane.
Within an hour we had a visit from a gentleman with shifty eyes and an interesting pattern of knife scars where his nose used to be,
The supernatural can be very annoying until one finds the key that transforms it into science, he observed mildly... Come on, Ox, let's go out and get killed.
It was big enough for five village dances and a riot.
The problem with 'the crown jewel of Chinese literature' [Dream of the Red Chamber] is that it has two thousand pages and an equal number of characters, and the hero is an effeminate ass who should ha...
Everybody knows that the soul of a cat is formed from the composite souls of nine debauched nuns who failed in their vows.
Once there was a great king who gazed down from a tall tower upon a gardener who sang as he worked, and the king cried, ‘Ah, to have a life of no cares! If only I could be that gardener.’ And the voic...
The emotional health of a village depended upon having a man whom everyone loved to hate, and Heaven had blessed us with two of them.
Immortality is only for the gods, he whispered. I wonder how they can stand it.
I have decided that the problem with poetic justice is that it never knows when to stop.
Nothing on the face of this earth - and I do mean nothing - is half so dangerous as a children's story that happens to be real...
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