Nothing sells tombstones like a Girl Scout in uniform.

I would prefer to believe that a market in fetal organs would empower women to use their reproductive capabilities to their own economic advantage.

A century ago, people laughed at the notion that we were descended from monkeys. Today, the individuals most offended by that claim are the monkeys.

Such is the demographic paradox of a junior physician's relationship with his patients: I worry about how to extend their lives. This anxiety inevitably shortens my own.

Marriage is like a series of opposing reflections, inverse images getting ever smaller like nesting dolls, each one of your trying to squeeze yourself smaller to fit inside the hopes of the other, until one of you cracks or stops existing.

Nothing sells tombstones like a Girl Scout in uniform.

Life is nasty, brutish, and short. Death is easy.