There is a world which I alone rule, but it ends at my fingertips.

I recently had my problems on the run, but now they've re-grouped, and are making another attack.

The more sure you are, the more wrong you can be.

I may not be perfect, but parts of me are excellent.

We've been through so much together, and most of it was your fault.

Why is my autograph so little in demand, except on checks?

Hold on to me: Someday I may be quite valuable.