What did one say to a stalker? Um, pardon me, Mr.Stalker, but could you, like, not?

Don't judge me because I'm quiet. No one plans a murder out loud.

Writing is transcendental. It is a form of expression, a form of art that you can take anywhere. That you can do anywhere. It poses the deepest questions in the universe. It generates emotion. It elicits empathy, promotes learning, creates an intellect you simply cannot get from any other medium. For me, it is air.

My plans often went awry. Much like my thoughts. Hold the phones. Maybe Saan had ADD, too. It would explain a lot.

I climbed into Misery and called Uncle Bob. “We hooking up?” “Why does everything out of your mouth make me sound incestuous?” “Um, I wasn’t aware that it did. Perhaps you have a guilty conscience.” “Charley.” “Is there something you need to get off your chest? Besides that skank I saw you with the other day?

There is a great need for a sarcasm font.

Does Uncle Bob have anything?" "I heard he has an STD." "I mean on the women." "Oh, I have no idea if they have any STDs.