It was joy, joy, happy joy. Happy, happy joy. A big fat smiley sun rose above the rooftops and beamed down its blessings onto the borough known as Brentford. — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
“...And there's the Midnight Growlers, a philosophical movement dedicated to high spiritual ideals and the pursuit of truth and -' Beer,' said Tinto.” — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
“Need to get to Ruislip by sparrow-fart though', said the squadron leader. 'Think you can do that? Can I come along for the ride?” — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
If there are no spots on a sugar cube then I’ve just put a dice in my tea. — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
“Pooley rose to investigate but the Professor restrained him with a firm and unyielding hand. Jim marvelled at the ancient’s newly acquired strength. ‘Do… — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
“The hill road wound upwards, as hill roads do, unless you're coming down them, of course.” — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
“I know little of the Catholic faith,’ said Pooley, ‘who was Pope Alexander VI?’ ‘He was not what one would describe as a good… — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
Because I'm a special gatekeeper. I'm the head gatekeeper. Because, although, as you can see, I'm only a head, I'm also the gatekeeper. Which… — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
“There was a lot of joy to be had in the contemplation of a pint glass; in terms of plain reality of course, there… — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
Now, it's a fact well known to those who know it well that prophets of doom only attain popularity when they get the drinks… — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
“There were large and small ones too. And some quite in-between. But all of equal nastiness. And smelliness and ghastliness. For they would eat… — Robert Rankin Copy Share Image
