I see that there will be no end to imperfection, or to doing things the wrong way. Even if you grow up, no matter how hard you scrub, whatever you do, there will always be some other stain or spot on your face or stupid act, somebody frowning.

I grew up in the golden age of Flash Gordon and sci-fi.

All stories are about wolves. All worth repeating, that is. Anything else is sentimental drivel.

If your not annoying somebody, you're not alive.

How furious she must be, now that she's been taken at her word.

Nevertheless, blood is thicker than water, as anyone knows who has tasted both.

Whatever the scientists may come up with, writers and artists will continue to portray altered mental states, simply because few aspects of our nature fascinate people so much. The so-called mad person will always represent a possible future for every member of the audience - who knows when such a malady may strike?