I don’t think I’m crazy, but then again, define crazy.
Dying may just be the best thing that ever happened to me.
And a funeral, I found out, is like a wedding in reverse, with less time to plan.
Two weeks. Everything you love, own, and cherish, can be gone, liquidated, and lost forever in two weeks. Give or take a day.
Free will always results in collateral damage.
There is a cookie trail of all my interests lodged in some digital sphere which will one day consolidate the collected data of six billion souls and vomit out—I don’t know—personalized infomercials for deodorant and car wax.
There was a day when writers actually read," he grumbles. "They could quote Keats and Socrates. Now anyone with a keyboard and a fifth-grade education can call themselves a writer.
I never saw a dollar bill cry at anyone's funeral.
