It begins, as most things begin, with a song. — Anansi Boys

"Fat Charlie was only ever fat for a handful of years, from shortly before the age of ten, which was when his mother announced to the world that if there was one thing she was over and done with (and if the gentleman in question had any argument with it he could just stick it you know where) it was her marriage to that elderly goat that she had made the unfortunate mistake of marrying and she would be leaving in the morning for somewhere a long way away and he had better not try to follow, to the age of fourteen, when Fat Charlie grew a bit and exercised a little more. He was not fat. Truth to tell, he was not really even chubby, simply slightly soft-looking around the edges. But the name Fat Charlie clung to him, like chewing gun to the sole of a tennis shoe."

"“The ties of blood,” said Spider, “are stronger than water.” “Water’s not strong,” objected Fat Charlie. “Stronger than vodka, then. Or volcanoes. Or, or ammonia.”"

"“Grahame Coats. He wants me to pop in tomorrow.” Spider said, “He’s a bastard.” “So? You’re a bastard.” “Different kind of bastard.”"

"“I tell him how he can contact his brother.” “Ahh,” said Mrs. Dunwiddy. She could disapprove with just that one syllable."

"Nothing good lasts forever, after all. Sooner or later, as Grahame Coats himself would have delighted in assuring you, even if your goose habitually lays golden eggs, it will still be cooked."

"Spider: Things came up. Fat Charlie: What kind of things? Spider: Things. They came up. Thats what things do. They come up. I cant be expected to keep track of them all."