Dear Sweetheart, Without you my days are endless. Days seem like weeks... Weeks feel like months... Months like years... Years like centuries... Centuries like... You get the idea.

Snoopy: So this is the last day of the year. Another complete year gone by and what have I accomplished this year that I haven't accomplished every other year? Nothing! (He smiles.) How consistent can you get?

When you die, are you ever allowed to come back?" "Only if you had your hand stamped.

Dear IRS, I am writing to cancel my subscription. Please remove my name from your mailing list.

It's either the flu or love... The symptoms are the same.

A whole stack of memories never equal one little hope.

My mind reels with sarcastic replies.