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'Boy, this is potent: Even I can't stomach this...'
'Burf, I think the ants are trying to tell us something.
'Yo, Vince- you got some on yer face.'
'Dude, it's pizza. Again! I don't know whether to leave them a Chinese takeout menu, or just trash the place.'
'By the way, your garbage can lid is loose.'
But the abundant autumn rains had fallen, and once again the cacophonous sounds of life resounded from the valley below. And so complete was the transformation that Neville began to wonder whether the blistering summertime famine ever would return.
'Huh! There goes Sunday lunch!'
'Do they make one of those that finds lost bones?'
Cambridge Dons homing in at feeding time.
'Don't be silly, I'm not calling for help: I'm calling my cousin to come and join us for dinner...'
'Listen, it's my birthday today: What about letting me have a pick at a good bit?'
'Stop being so picky, just eat it'
'You are what you eat!'
'I wish you would have come to see me sooner.'
'I haven't eaten kosher in ages.'
'Deli? Fifty pounds of Limburger - charge it and leave it on the back porch at 107 Court Street.'
"So you hired them to do the tidying up?"
"There's me in the Johnson's trash. . . there's me in the Kleeburg's trash. . . there's me in the Miller's trash. . ."