My ancient history teacher, Millie Lloyd, should have worn a medal for her performance at the battle of Thermopylae. She was excited and we were excited.

The umpire had comical news. The congregation had been theoretically spotted from the air by a theoretical enemy. They were all theoretically dead now. The theoretical corpses laughed and ate a hearty noontime meal.

Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter could be said to remedy anything.

The artist makes his living by pretending, by putting it in a meaningful hole though no such holes exist.

love is a hawk with velvet claws love is a rock with heart and veins love is a lion with satin jaws love is a storm with silken reins

We were German-Americans in a British colony, so we were outsiders.

You can't just eat good food. You've got to talk about it too. And you've got to talk about it to somebody who understands that kind of food.