I looked at Mum and realized -- twang! -- that she was telling an untruth. A big untruth. And I remember thinking in that instant how thrilling and grown-up it must be to say something so completely untrue, as opposed to the little amateur fibs I was already practiced at -- horrid little apprentice sinner that I was --like the ones about you'd already said your prayers or washed under the fingernails. Yes, I was impressed. I too must learn to say these gorgeous untruths. Imaginary kings and queens would be my houseguests when I was older.

The vice-president's tongue is several time zones ahead of his brain.

Nothing raises the national temperature more than a VACANCY sign hanging from the colonnaded front of the Supreme Court.

One realization does dawn upon the death of the second parent, namely that you've now moved into the green room to the River Styx. You're next.

How many times had those awful words - "I know what I'm doing" - been uttered throughout history as prelude to disaster?

E-mails are the new herpes: You never get rid of them.

I think that every man is afraid of his wife.