No. Not in a month of Mondays, girl.
Your Majester, I is your humbug servant.
Words. They’s all such a twitch-tickling problem to me all my life. I knows exactly what words I want to say but somehow or other they all comes out squiff-squiddled ’round.
What I’m says and what I means is sometimes two different things.
There’s only one word for that, Majester. Scrumdiddlyumptious.
Instincts? I thought human beans was full of brains.
Dreams is actually very mysterious things. All the time they is searching for… For sleeping people.