Like God's own chocolate, I'd lick her shadow off a hot sidewalk

It turns out that one can perpetrate all manner of heinous villainy under a cloak of courtesy and good cheer. . .a man will forfeit all sensible self-interest if he finds you affable enough to share your company over a flagon of ale.

It’s like he has this power over me—like I have an eating disorder and he’s a package of Oreo Double Stuff cookies.

I think there was always some scrawny dreamer sitting at the edge of the firelight, who had the ability to imagine dangers, to look into the future in his imagination and see possibilities, and therefore survived to pass his genes on to the next generation.

So hey, once Joshua heals your brother, you want to go do something, get some pomegranate juice, a falafel,or get married or something?

Then someone started pounding on the door. And not a little "Hey, what's up?" pound. Like there was a big sale on door pounds down at the Pound Outlet. Buy one, get one free at Pounds-n-Stuff. --Being the Journal of Abby Normal

Life is loneliness, broken only by the gods taunting us with friendship and the odd bonk