Ineffable Quote Bot

Oh, and, of course, his... assistant? But I don't think I saw him.

Nothing's wrong. Everything's going perfectly. There's a lot happening. All good.

Tell me about it. Everyone in Heaven is all like, 'Well, you're the commander-in-chief, can't you just make the war happen anyway?' Like, I make the rules.

“So, I'll meet you at Tadfield, but we're both going to have to get a bit of a wiggle on.”
“What?”
“Tadfield. Air Base!”
“I heard that. It was the ‘wiggle on’.”

If that gun goes off in his face now, it'll be a right old mess. Never mind the paperwork, they probably won't be able to put him back together again.

I'm not going to go there.

“How's your naked man friend?”
“He's not, he's not my... Well, he's certainly not naked anymore.”

I'm honestly not a demon. I-I don't know what you think you saw, but—

Well, it's not the sort of thing you forget.

There is. We can fight. And we can win.

While we figure out what's actually going on.

“We can do something. I have an idea.”
“No! I am not interested.”
“Well, let's have lunch. Hmm?”

Aziraphale. It's me. We need to talk.

You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.

Erm... It's a bit complicated, but um... probably best if you forget all about it and do whatever Mr. Crowley suggests.

Shut it! Get him out of here, this'll cause a riot. What are you all looking at? Nothing to see. Nothing to see here.

You've disappointed me. Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

"But you'll need a firearms license."
"Oh, I have one of those already."
"You what?"
"Oh, yes, I keep a Derringer in the bookshop, inside a hollowed out book. In case I get into a scrape."

Hello, it's me. Don't say anything... are you there?

Fire extinguishers have all been emptied, and we're out of encyclopedias.

"Well, you’re... um... ah... Jim.”
“Jim? Cool. I love it. Jim. Short for Gabriel.”
“No, no, ah. Short for James.”
“James, cool. I love it. Jaaaaaames. Long for Jim, short for Gabriel.”

Don't give them bread, you idiot! Ducks shouldn't eat bread.

"You speak every language in the world, we both do."
"Yes."
"So what's with the French?"
"Oh, I learned that, pfft.. the hard way. I went to Monsieur Rossignol's night classes in 1760. Où est la plume de la jardinier de ma tante."

"Why? Who are you?"
"Just an old friend. Here to offer some comfort."
"What 'old friend'?"
"You tell me."
"Oh... Bildad the Shuhite?"
"Sure."

That would be the point.

It's reality, Angel.

“How's the car?”
“Not a scratch on it. How's the bookshop?
“Not a smudge. Not a book burned. Everything back just the way it was. You heard from your people yet?”
“Yours?”
“Nothing.”

And his Satanic father is not happy.

Right. The M25 is now an impassable burning ring of infernal fire, and that's my fault.

He's not my bit on the side. He's far too pure of heart to be anybody's bit on the side. He's just an angel... I know.