Howard: Beverly and I were doomed to the most horrifying and brutal demise known on this world since the day when corporate monsters rose encased in glass and steel and swallowed our ancestors whole into their bureaucratic digestive tracts, reducing their minds to gelatin and their bones to roughage, making waste matter of people, then callously eliminating them at age sixty five, sixty two for women
Phelch the Turnip: We were a breed of aggressive, dynamic, success oriented vegetables who overcame the limits of our roots and evolved into space spanning go getters, interstallar overachievers.
Phelch the Turnip: There are no heroes, Arthur-meat -- nor villians, either. Merely various entities with various desires. When society approves of these desires, the entity is deemed good - or at least respectable
[After freeing Arthur from control of Phelch the Turnip]]
Beverly: I hope you've learned something from all this, Arthur
Arthur: Yes. There can be profound meaning in life without heroics. The universe isn't a melodrama, but a vast panorama of banal humanity. Man's soul may leap to the heights of fantasy but its true value is down here in the mud, where the real trouble is
Howard: How about -- You're just not qualified to give advice on the subject, huh?
Howard: These hairless apes manufacture neuroses for themselves us ducks never dreamed of! I don't blame same for nodding out. If I hadda play by this world's nutty rules, where they penalized ya for being clever an' reward mediocrity and then glamorize the outlaw, 'coz he makes it on his own terms, even if they're stupid and destructive...
[On seeing Winky-Man]
Thug: Are you for real? I heard o' heroes in long underwear - but a night-gown?!
Patron at Joe's Bar: Me, I figger livin's sorta like football or squash, know what I mean? Shtrategy... Fast Moves... Beer Commercials