How can I be a part of the 1960s generation when I don't even remember any of it?

Salad bars are like a restaurant's lungs. They soak up the impurities and bacteria in the environment, leaving you with much cleaner air to enjoy.

Their talk was endless, compulsive, and indulgent, sometimes sounding like the remains of the English language after having been hashed over by nuclear war survivors for a few hundred years.

Canadian winters are long. Life is hard and so is ice.

The best part of my life is gone, and what remains is whizzing past so quickly I feel like I'm Krazy-Glue'ed onto a mechanical bull of a time machine.

TV and the Internet are good because they keep stupid people from spending too much time out in public.

I think writing would have happened to me anyway, somehow. Differently, but it still would have happened.