Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops.
Everyone tells me I've had such an interesting life, but sometimes I think it's been nothing but stomach disturbances and self-concern.
There must be something between us, even if it's only an ocean.
When I'm married I want to be single, and when I'm single I want to be married.
I'm prepared. I have a gun and I know how to shoot, and whoever comes calling without an invitation will get it in the rear end.
Who is omnipotent or wise enough to decide each new standard of good taste? Or sensitivity?