There's a one in six billion chance you'll find your soul mate. And that's if they're not dead. At best they're probably living in some Siberian ice cave eating bugs and weaving beads into their back hair. But they're out there. My dad believed that to find your perfect soul mate, first, you had to look through a bunch of other guys' soul mates.

Everybody I've ever met was destroyed by a member of the opposite sex early on and that damage you took into every relationship after that, everybody. Every woman in here got intimidated by a guy, pushed around too much, now you're new boyfriend tickles you a little too hard, boom restraining order. Every guy here had a woman sleep with his best friend, now your new girlfriend hugs your cousin a little long, boom car bomb.

A salamander can grow a new tail in three weeks. My dad can score new tail in three minutes.

Born free. Taxed to death.

Passion, manners, and 80 ounces of beer will win the heart of any woman. And if it doesn't, you'll be too hammered to remember.

I think when you sit alone with your brain too much, your own brain starts to rebel against you.

Sometimes failure makes your future because you set the past on fire.