There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.
A gun is not a weapon! It's a tool, like a butcher's knife, or a harpoon, or an alligator.
I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey.
We got a little rule back home: If it's brown, drink it down. If it's black, send it back.
I'm a Spalding Gray in a Rick Dees world.
Sensitive love letters are my specialty. 'Dear Baby, Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: you.'