”There were these two men, sharing a railway carriage. They didn’t know each other. They just happened to be travelling together. One of the men had, resting in his lap, a cardboard box with holes punched in the top. After some time spent contemplating what might be inside his travelling companion’s box, the other man at last could not contain his curiosity. He said, “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help noticing your box. Does it contain some variety of animal?” The other man, though obviously surprised by this impertinent intrusion from a stranger, smiled politely as he answered, “You’re absolutely right. There is indeed a creature kept inside this box. And furthermore, I may reveal, the animal in question is a mongoose.”

The first man, who’d initiated the enquiry, was astonsihed by this revelation. Spluttering with surprise, he sought some further explanation of this certainly provocative disclosure made by his strange fellow-traveller. “A mongoose? Sir I must confess I had expected it to be perhaps a cat, or rabbit, not a creature so exotic and outlandish. The animal you mention so excites my curiosity that I must beg you, sir, to tell me more. Where are you bound with such a specimen, if I may be so bold?” The other man, who sat with the perforated box on his lap, shrugged wearily as he replied, “Well, it’s something of a personal matter, as it concerns a family tragedy. However, since I’m confident I may rely on your discretion, I suppose I don’t mind sharing my unfortunate account with you.”

“You see,” the man went on, “this sorry tale concerns my elder brother. He’s always been what I suppose you might refer to as the black sheep of the family. He has for many years indulged himself in a predictable and commonplace array of vices, of which the worst is his fondness for strong spirits. His drinking has progressed until he is now in the final stages of delerium tremens. My brother now sees serpents everywhere, which is the reason I am taking him this mongoose, that he may be rid of them.”

“Excuse me,” the other man interjected, looking puzzled, “But, these snakes your brother sees… aren’t they imaginary snakes?”

“Indeed,” his fellow traveller replied. “But this,” and here he gestured meaningfully to the perforated box set on his lap, “is an imaginary mongoose.”‘

‘Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy, or that anyone who embarks on the strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter. The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events.’ — Winston Churchill

‘I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity.’ — Dwight D. Eisenhower

‘It is an important and popular fact that things are not always what they seem. For instance, on the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much — the wheel, New York, wars and so on — whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man — for precisely the same reasons.’ — Douglas Adams in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Thus the graffiti on the walls of the Portakabins where, if you got to them later than 9am, you’d be greeted by a 5ft-high pile of soldiers’ faeces:

Toilet 7: “I am become Death, Destroyer of Worlds’; ‘I am become Bored, Destroyer of Motivation”

Toilet 3: “Though I walk through the valley of death I shall fear no evil, because I am the meanest motherfucker in the valley.”

Toilet 6: “MARINE – Muscles Are Required, Intelegance [sic] Not Essential”

Toilet 2 (women only): “I miss my cat.”

‘NASA uses Windows? Oh great. If Apollo 13 went off course today the manual would just tell them to open the airlock, flush the astronauts out, and re-install new ones.’ — Kibo

‘CAMERON (grim monotone): 1958 Ferrari 250 GTS California. Less than a hundred were made. It has a market value of $265,000. My father spent three years restoring it. It is joy, it is his love, it is his passion.

FERRIS: It is his fault he didn’t lock the garage.

CAMERON: Ferris, my father loves this car more than life itself. We can’t take it out.

FERRIS: A man with priorities so far out of whack doesn’t deserve such a fine automobile.’

Dr. Evil’s Secrets: ‘Okay. I have a vestigial tail. It’s more of a nub, really. The spine just goes on a little longer than it should. Also, I’ve dabbled. I mean, perform fellatio once and you’re a poet, twice and you’re a homosexual. I remember once I was being fisted by Sebastian Cabot- but here’s where the story gets interesting…’ [More]

Dr. Evil’s Childhood: ‘Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we’d make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian woman named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum, it’s breathtaking, I suggest you try it.’