If Peter was nine, and a new boy came to St. Norbert’s Home for Wayward Boys who said he was ten, why, then, Peter would declare himself eleven. Also, he could spit the farthest. That made him the undisputed leader.

Yet another spunky li'l NASA robot lands and begins transmitting back photographs of rocks that appear virtually identical to the rock photos beamed back by all the other spunky li'l NASA robots, thus confirming suspicions that the universe has a LOT of rocks in it.

I think I've learned over the years, because you'd have to be stupid not to, that when a book publisher gives you a deadline they're just kidding for the most part. I don't know what they do with it, it's like you send them your book and they just hold it in their hands for like six months and I don't know why, and you realize you probably had more time.

Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask whether your country has been inhaling paint-thinner fumes.

As the saying goes: "If you're not part of the solution, you're a newspaper columnist."

Skiers view snowboarders as a menace; snowboarders view skiers as Elmer Fudd.

The books all say that barracuda rarely eat people, but very few barracuda can read.