Despite my ghoulish reputation, I really have the heart of a small boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk.
The man who smiles when things go wrong has thought of someone to blame it on.
Friendship is like peeing on yourself: everyone can see it, but only you get the warm feeling that it brings.
Funny how we take it for granted that we know all there is to know about another person, just because we see them frequently or because of some strong emotional tie.
why do we personify time? Is it because we’re afraid to admit that our lives are measured by an abstract force that neither knows nor cares about our entry into existence? Or our departure into death? Time is our mysterious master giving it a face and hands we attempt to transform it into our servant.
