Quotes from Mort
Mort was one of those people who are more dangerous than a bag of rattlesnakes. He was determined to discover the underlying logic behind the universe.
Which was going to be hard, because there wasn’t one. The Creator had a lot of remarkably good ideas when he put the world together, but making it understandable hadn’t been one of them. (M)
It was also acutely embarrassing to Mort’s family that the youngest son was not at all serious and had about the same
talent for horticulture that you would find in a dead starfish. It wasn’t that he was unhelpful, but he had the kind of vague, cheerful helpfulness that serious men soon learn to dread. (M)
'I must say,’ he said, ‘you’re a real brick.’
‘You mean pink, square and dumpy? You really know how to talk to a girl, my boy.' (M)
Then Mort said, ‘What do all those symbols mean?’
‘Sodomy non sapiens,’ said Albert under his breath.
‘What does that mean?’
‘Means I’m buggered if I know.' (M)
Albert grunted. ‘Do you know what happens to lads who ask too many questions?’
Mort thought for a moment.
‘No,’ he said eventually, ‘what?’
There was silence.
Then Albert straightened up and said, ‘Damned if I know. Probably they get answers, and serve ‘em right.' (M)
'I’ve never seen Death actually at work.’
‘Not many have,’ said Albert. ‘Not twice, at any rate.' (M)
… Mort’s innate honesty will never make him a poet; if Mort ever compared a girl to a summer’s day it would have been followed by a thoughtful explanation of what day he had in mind and whether it was raining at the time. (M)
He sighed and pushed open the door.
As one man, the assembled company stopped talking and stared at him with the honest rural stare that suggests that for two pins they’ll hit you around the head with a shovel and bury your body under a compost heap at full moon (M)
Mort was already aware that love made you feel hot and cold and cruel and weak, but he hadn’t realised that it could make you stupid. (M)
'You’re dead,’ he said.
Keli waited. She couldn’t think of any suitable reply.‘I’m not’ lacked a certain style, while ‘Is it serious?’ seemed somehow too frivolous. (M)
Goodbye,’Mort said, and was surprised to find a lump in his throat. ‘It’s such an unpleasant word, isn’t it?’
QUITE SO. Death grinned because, as has so often been remarked, he didn’t have much option. But possibly he meant it, this time.
I PREFER AU REVOIR, he said. (M)
Which was going to be hard, because there wasn’t one. The Creator had a lot of remarkably good ideas when he put the world together, but making it understandable hadn’t been one of them. (M)
It was also acutely embarrassing to Mort’s family that the youngest son was not at all serious and had about the same
talent for horticulture that you would find in a dead starfish. It wasn’t that he was unhelpful, but he had the kind of vague, cheerful helpfulness that serious men soon learn to dread. (M)
'I must say,’ he said, ‘you’re a real brick.’
‘You mean pink, square and dumpy? You really know how to talk to a girl, my boy.' (M)
Then Mort said, ‘What do all those symbols mean?’
‘Sodomy non sapiens,’ said Albert under his breath.
‘What does that mean?’
‘Means I’m buggered if I know.' (M)
Albert grunted. ‘Do you know what happens to lads who ask too many questions?’
Mort thought for a moment.
‘No,’ he said eventually, ‘what?’
There was silence.
Then Albert straightened up and said, ‘Damned if I know. Probably they get answers, and serve ‘em right.' (M)
'I’ve never seen Death actually at work.’
‘Not many have,’ said Albert. ‘Not twice, at any rate.' (M)
… Mort’s innate honesty will never make him a poet; if Mort ever compared a girl to a summer’s day it would have been followed by a thoughtful explanation of what day he had in mind and whether it was raining at the time. (M)
He sighed and pushed open the door.
As one man, the assembled company stopped talking and stared at him with the honest rural stare that suggests that for two pins they’ll hit you around the head with a shovel and bury your body under a compost heap at full moon (M)
Mort was already aware that love made you feel hot and cold and cruel and weak, but he hadn’t realised that it could make you stupid. (M)
'You’re dead,’ he said.
Keli waited. She couldn’t think of any suitable reply.‘I’m not’ lacked a certain style, while ‘Is it serious?’ seemed somehow too frivolous. (M)
Goodbye,’Mort said, and was surprised to find a lump in his throat. ‘It’s such an unpleasant word, isn’t it?’
QUITE SO. Death grinned because, as has so often been remarked, he didn’t have much option. But possibly he meant it, this time.
I PREFER AU REVOIR, he said. (M)