Even bad books are books and therefore sacred.
Shit goes out, and dick goes in. This is the way of the prisoner.
I unwind with wine—or a few counter clockwise turns.
Book burnings. Always the forerunners. Heralds of the stake, the ovens, the mass graves.
Sex, like business, is better with multiple partners.
The old me is younger than the new me, the me now.
Age is just a number. So is my area code.
As an atheist hates Christmas, I hate the fourth of July.
I found a body today. It was mine, so I played with it.
Here’s a list in no particular order: chaos, confusion, and disorganization.
I want to have negative three kids. Or three negative kids.
If I were as tall as the day is night, I’d be a midget.
If you have to dig to find yourself, you are probably dead.
I don’t eat Sloppy Joes. I eat Tidy Josephs.
I ate a pound cake today, but I gained two.
Bring on hyperinflation! I want to be a millionaire with minimal work.
I made friends with the future. But I’m still friends with the past.
In high school I attended a magnet school—for refrigerators.
I am illiterate. Just not in English.
Algebra is numbers forgetting why they’re letters.
Nothing is and isn’t; nothing is and isn’t—nothing itself is, and at the same time, nothing isn’t.
