Sounds of life and movement, people getting ready and people giving up, the sound of hope and the sound of hanging on, and behind them all, the quiet, deadly ticking of a thousand hungry clocks.

A word to the wise is infuriating.

I harbor a secret urge to whack a salesman in the face, crack his teeth and put red bumps around his eyes.

A man who procrastinates in his choosing will inevitably have his choice made for him by circumstance.

Though I was careful never to mention it, I began to see a new dimension in everything that happened.

There are times, however, and this is one of them, when even being right feels wrong. What do you say, for instance, about a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death?

Fear is just another word for ignorance.