I don’t like sleeping, but I do like watching the inside of my eyelids. That’s how I drive, and that’s how I make love. Honk when you’re finished.
I don’t trust mutes. By their silence, I wonder what they’re hiding. The lost Templar treasure, mysteries of the universe, my love for you—who knows what they could have hidden away.
I invented an invisible machine to help you get to sleep. It only works after your eyes stay shut for a length of time. It’s also so quiet that you won’t hear it.
I have just been elected Captain of the Nap Squad. It's a very exhausting position, and requires training twice a day, once when I get up and once before bed.
I’d sip your tears with a straw while you sleep, because I’m thirsty for your love. And the more I’d drink, the thirstier I’d become. Your love is oceanic.
Are there any sleeping jobs, because I have a lot of experience. Years and years, actually. And with on the job training, I can show up to work tired.
Love is a roundness, like a hole—a black hole. If what she wants is space, I’ll give her space—enough to fill an auditorium that has ample seating for a lecture by Stephen Hawking.
If counting is thinking, then the longest I’ve ever thought about any one subject continuously for is 127, 983 seconds. I might have also been in love, though I was too distracted to notice.
If I only had five minutes left to live, I’d only be half as alarmed as normal, because my watch is five minutes fast. And I can get a lot done in 10 minutes.
It’s times like these I wish I had a watch. It’d also be nice if it was broken. That would let me know that now is always the best time to love.
Some people collect cars. I collect unemployment. Once my collection gets large enough, I’m going to start a country like the United States.
I’m not selfish. I’d gladly give someone’s life, a more valuable life than my own, while I humbly preserve and keep my own meager life for myself.
He’s half blind,” Orafoura said. “Oh,” I said, “he’s only got one eye? They call that a Cyclops.” “No, he’s got two eyes,” Orafoura replied. “He’s half blind because he’s in love.
A one-winged bird does not fly south for the winter. It flies south, west, north, and east, over and over. That’s how I feel when I’m in love, only I walk.
I call my thumb Napoleon, because I rarely ever lose a thumb war. Also because my thumb's so small, and I wear a tiny funny hat and cape on it.
My love grew wings—and flapped away from me. I watched as it flew right into the arms deal of the century. Only the Russians would be crazy enough to use something as dangerous as love in a war.
If love fell in love with another word, do you think that word would smell, taste, and rhyme with it? I think so, and I think that word is jambalaya, but maybe I’m pronouncing love wrong.
You can’t write with dry ink. Likewise, using another author’s dried words to make your writing more fluid is not only dishonest, but it’s against everything I stand for as a former lifeguard.
When I'm in yoga class, and I'm in the Tree Pose, I always pretend I'm the Tree of Knowledge. To help further the fantasy I come to class with my yoga shorts stuffed with two apples.
I maintain an ongoing survey of Internet Publishing and self publishing, so that it is now possible for any writer with a book to get it published at nominal cost or free, and to have it on sale at booksellers like Amazon.com.
I lit the candles and said out loud, “what am I waiting on? Someone to sell them in a garage sale for a quarter after I die?” And it was beautiful. And the smell was even more incredible than I remembered.
