— You've lost the boy.
— WE've lost.
— A child has been lost.

— Animals.
— Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, Angel. Only humans do that.

Not very subtle of the Almighty, though. Fruit tree in the middle of a garden with a "Don't Touch" sign. I mean, why not put it on the top of high mountain? Or on the moon?

What's the point in creating an infinite universe with trillions of star systems if you're only gonna let it run for a few thousand years? The engine won't have properly warmed up by then.

Right, I'm gonna formally declare this meeting of the Whickber Street shopkeepers, thingy over.

— You say "I arrest you, anything you say blah, blah, blah".
— Blah, blah, blah?
— Good job, you're arresting me.
— What?
— Yeah, you said "blah, blah, blah".

God does not play dice with the universe. I plan an ineffable game of my own devising. For everyone else, it's like playing poker in a pitch-dark room, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.

— Ciao!
— What's that mean?
— "Ciao", it's Italian. It means "food".

— Was it always this easy?
— Easy?
— I keep planning complicated strategic strikes to spread misery and panic among the humans and just as I'm about to put one into motion, they come up with something themselves, which is so much worse than anything I could have thought of.
— Yeah, always this easy.

— We are here to lick some serious butt.
— "Kick", Aziraphale. It's "kick butt". For Heaven's sake. Oh! I can't believe I just said that.

Most books on witchcraft will tell you that witches work naked. This is because most books on witchcraft are written by men.

...unless they send out the Angel Gabriel now, they are toast! T-O-S-T-E. Toast.

— You know what it's like when you don't know anything at all and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?
— No! Certainly not.

If any harm comes to Aziraphale because of this, I wiil...