I don't like to generalize, but if you see a guy with his shirt tucked into his shorts, he's probably killed three or four children.

I don't want to appear to be placing blame, but as far my life is concerned, everything is pretty much my dad's ball's fault.

I bet when all the punctuation marks have a party, they quietly look at exclamation point's wife and think, that poor woman.

As I die, and my life flashes before my eyes, I want to see who made faces at me when I turned my head. That's all I want to see.

I try to live in the moment, but by the time I get there it's too late.

Love is like pancreatitis; it starts off slow, then builds in intensity until you become consumed and develop violent cramps.

I used to fear living a life untouched by God, but now, for some reason I've gone back to being afraid of cement mixers.