A man who discovers his pants are on fire tends to have very little time to worry about somebody else's box of matches

Or was he saying, "Hi! Wanna play?" And I did. Of course I did.

I sighed; as comforting as it may be to some of us, sarcasm, like youth, is wasted on the young.

I had killed our careful relationship by driving my tongue through its heart and pushing it off a cliff.

I nodded with genuine synthetic sympathy.

But as I have noticed on more than one occaision, life itself is unfair, and there is no complaint department, so we might as well accept things the way they happen, clean up the mess, and move on.

The mind picks some very bad times to take a walk doesn't it?