Religion is probably, after sex, the second oldest resource which human beings have available to them for blowing their mind.
...she was probably having a few murderous thoughts of her own about any woman that touched him. Good, they were making progress.
I taught a college course called “Of Course!: Helping the Oblivious Realize the Obvious.” Nobody showed up to class, probably because the time and location weren’t obvious enough.
Never trust a man who dresses too well or stays too clean. It ain't natural and whatever he's up to probably ain't legal.
I'm beginning to think that if you're going to have a role model you should probably pick someone who's already dead so they can't disappoint you.
The reader may ask how to tell fact from fiction. A rough guide: anything that seems particularly unlikely is probably true.
Nonetheless, it still remains true that as a set of cognitive beliefs, religious doctrines constitute a speculative hypothesis of an extremely low order of probability.
I see, these books are probably law books, and it is an essential part of the justice dispensed here that you should be condemned not only in innocence but also in ignorance.
It is Father’s Day today. I should probably call all three of mine and say Hello, and thanks for possibly pumping my mom with the winning batch of semen.
We shouldn’t eat raw food. In fact, we probably shouldn’t even be listening to the radio. Too much nudity soaking in through our ears.
The world is my canvas, and my ponytail is my paintbrush. Helen Keller probably had a ponytail too, though my art has more vision. Barely.
Love is like a blanket: it will keep you warm, but it might also suffocate you. Also, it's probably covered with cat hair—love, I mean.
I haven’t had a birthday party in a while, probably because I’m not really into celebrating myself. Especially not for an achievement (the creation of me) that I did not contribute too.
It was probably my mother's screaming that frightened the cat. It's just a guess. No one knows for sure why a cat fell from a ten-storey building onto my head.
I asked the girl at the coffee shop out on a date. Unfortunately she said no, probably because I asked her out to coffee.
And when all was said and done the lies a fellow told about himself couldn't probably hold a proverbial candle to the wholesale whoppers other fellows coined about him.
Was it the happiest day of our lives? Probably not, if only because the truly happy days tend not to involve so much organisation, are rarely so public or so expensive. The happy ones sneak up, unexpected.
He has never understood that sometimes real love requires one to let the beloved go. Probably he never will.
We do not like the idea that any other creature can be better than we are. It is highly probable that if we ever have to face a superior race, we will die of it.
A boy who once wiped his ass with poison ivy probably doesn't belong in a smart people's club.
...evolution propels itself by an inclination toward its next probable achievement." ("Desire")
