All coincidences are Odd. That's what makes them coincidences.

Because life is complicated and difficult. Anyone who says otherwise hasn't truly lived.

Quiet descended, a silence so consuming that even the drafty corridors ceased whistling. Bog wasn't certain where to look, so he solved the problem by plucking out his eyes and sticking them in a drawer.

It was one thing to hide away from the world. It was quite another to discover the world didn't miss you when you were gone.

Those who write are writers. Those who wait are waiters.

Death should take more care with his paperwork.

I believe it was the great ogre philosopher Gary who observed that complexity is, generally speaking, an illusion of conscious desire. All things exist in as simple a form as necessity dictates. When a thing is labeled 'complex,' that's just a roundabout way of saying you're not observant enough to understand it.