This is where I have wasted the best years of my life.
The waste basket is the writer's best friend.
Today is a gift from God. Don't waste it!
Wanting to be someone else is a waste of who you are
My thing about having another child was, time's-a-wasting!
Even when one sleeps one is not wasting one's time.
When CD technology first came out, it was just so much waste.
I don't think we have any time to waste.
There is no greater harm than that of time wasted.
I would have made you a cheesecake, but I don’t know how. And I would have bought you a cheesecake, but I have no job and no money. So please accept this stack of coupons instead.
My 30th birthday will be arriving in a few months. It’s not arriving unexpectedly, I just wish it would have given me more of an advance notice, say another 30 years.
The canvas isn’t empty. It’s full of whatever you imagine it to be full of. My art is so conceptual that not only do I not tell, but I don’t even show. All I do is sign the canvas and try to sell it.
A book is a vacation for the mind. My books will take you inside my mind, so feel free to make yourself at home. Do as you please, but please don’t put your feet up on my hippocampus.
My first inclination is to make my business all about me, but my second instinct is to make my business all about everyone else, because everyone else is where all the money is at.
I’m here today because of my decisions yesterday. So I can change my tomorrow today, but I can’t change my today today. This makes the me of yesterday offensive to the me of today.
I’ve often wondered why the Protestant Reformation took place in Germany, rather than in Poland. Then I realize that Luther had to nail his 95 theses to the church door, and the Poles didn’t know how to operate a hammer.
I don’t have any money to speak of. And if I did, what’s there to say? They say money talks, but it doesn’t talk to me. Money won’t even look at me half the time.
To be surrounded by sixty people who make your life miserable is to be at a family reunion. But to be surrounded by 600,000 people who make the whole world miserable is to live in Washington DC.
When I found him lying in the ditch holding a shovel, I thought he was sleeping on the job. Turns out he was being even lazier, and he was in fact dead.
After my first coaching experience, the field looked more like Gettysburg than a normal defeat. But it wasn’t that bad, as only about half my team lay dead, while the rest were merely dying.
In a depression, I’d imagine rich people try to dress like they’re poor, and poor people try to dress like they’re rich. As for me, I try to dress exactly like my clone would.
