Who embalms the Undertaker when he dies?

Watching everyone root through their psyche, it just delights me. Especially R. Crumb's stuff.

I don't know, maybe it's because I was raised Catholic. Confession has always held a great appeal for me.

I grew to resent the way my father treated his furniture like children, and his children like furniture.

Was Daedalus really stricken with grief when Icarus fell into the sea? Or just disappointed by the design failure

At first I was glad for the help. My freshmen English class, "Mythology and Archetypal Experience," confounded me. I didn't understand why we couldn't just read books without forcing contorted interpretations on then

I'll watch a movie only if it meets the following criteria: 1. It has to have at least two women in it. 2. Who talk to each other. 3. About something besides a man.