Death is like bedtime—we all want to put it off until tomorrow. But when you’re going to bed, I’m just getting up, Lazarus style.
While getting a haircut, I thought about my failed marriage. Instead of feeling bad, I thought I’d grow a beard, move to the mountains, and start over.
I come bearing gifts in the form of junk food. You’re welcome. I would have brought some drugs, but I’m not a doctor.
A leap of faith doesn’t involve leg strength. Still, I can’t take any chances, so I’ve been doing squats.
I can be a better friend, lover, and humanitarian, but I can’t be a better eggroll. Sadly, I’m as good of an eggroll as I’ll ever be.
Back in high school, I started a gang called “The Illiterates.” To easily identify fellow gang members, we all wore letterman jackets.
Don’t bother calling the cops, because nobody can find me here. I know, because after all these years, I’m still trying to find myself.
Sometimes looking like you know is better than actually knowing. People respect you, and defer to you, yet you don’t have the burden that comes with heavy knowledge.
Instead of putting a Band Aid on your cut finger, why not just amputate at the elbow? See, I’m a problem solver. I should go into politics.
It’s disturbing to me that criminals are freely roaming the streets of our nation’s capital. I’m not talking about escaped prison inmates—I’m talking about politicians.
A writer edits his thoughts more thoroughly the more readers he has. You can tell I only have two readers, myself included.
She had two blueberries for eyes, and hair the color of strawberries. Too bad our love never made it past the kitchen and into the bedroom (or garage).
I want a trophy wife. I’ll keep her on the shelf next to my future Nobel peace prize. (I plan on inventing a gun that shoots love, not bullets.)
In our day heaven and earth are on tiptoe waiting for the emerging of a Spirit-led, Spirit-empowered people. All of creation watches expectantly for the springing up of a disciplined, freely gathered, martyr people who know in this life the power of ...
The cows in Stella Gibbons's immortal 'Cold Comfort Farm' are named Graceless, Aimless, Feckless and Pointless, and that more or less is the verdict on 'Ocean's Kingdom,' the wildly hyped and wildly uninteresting collaboration between Peter Martins a...
Speech within the kingdom of Amazonia - run by its sovereign Jeff Bezos and his board of directors with help from the wise counsel and judgment of the company's executives - is not protected in the same way that speech is constitutionally protected i...
I've always had this nightmare of going back to the Kingdome and seeing myself waddle in bald, overweight, with a big belly hanging over my belt, and I just imagine people going, 'That's Steve Largent?'
You can’t find God through astronomy; you can’t find immortality through biology. The Kingdom of Heaven can’t be attained through philosophy. There is only one way that leads to these things and that way is through the spirit.
Todo o reino de Fantasia assenta-se sobre alicerces de sonhos esquecidos." A História Sem Fim (The whole kingdom of Fantasy sits upon foundations of forgotten dreams - Endless Story).
Communism forgets that life is individual. Capitalism forgets that life is social, and the kingdom of brotherhood is found neither in the thesis of communism nor the antithesis of capitalism but in a higher synthesis. It is found in a higher synthesi...
What I'm saying to you this morning is that Communism forgets that life is individual. Capitalism forgets that life is social, and the Kingdom of Brotherhood is found neither in the thesis of Communism nor the antithesis of capitalism but in a higher...
