When I finally found the Guide, my world realigned, a Saul-on-the-road-to-Damascus sort of thing but without the sightlessness. In fact, scales fell (metaphorically speaking) from mine eyes when the chicken spoke. Aaaaah, breathed the lungs-within-the-lungs! We’ve all (especially the English Lit majors among us) suspected these sorts of voices abided within the little birdies, you know, but never gathered courage to set them free. I mean, these are feathered dinosaurs (updated), fer gadsakes. Oh, so glad; now I can take up my quest.

By far, this is my favorite book ever