There was once a strange, small man. He decided three important details about his life: 1. He would part his hair from the opposite side to everyone else. 2. He would make himself a small, strange mustache. 3. He would one day rule the world. ...Yes, the Fuhrer decided that he would rule the world with words.

Together, they would watch everything that was so carefully planned collapse, and they would smile at the beauty of destruction.

At first, she could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him?

My arms are killing me. I didn't know words could be so heavy.

There were not many people who could say that their education had been paid for with cigarettes.

The Gunman is useless. I know it. He knows it. The whole bank knows it.

Mistakes, mistakes, it's all I seem capable of at times.