The price of freedom keeps going up, but the quality keeps deteriorating.
I didn't mind being a public executioner, once I got the hang of it.
I will stop at nothing to reach my objective, but only because my brakes are defective.
Try to relax and enjoy the crisis.
Keep some souvenirs of your past, or how will you ever prove it wasn't all a dream?
Some of my troubles are so familiar, I know them by their first names.