Call me paranoid. I´m frequently right.

Now I'm a God, but tomorrow, when you have to stop me from playing with dead things again, you'll be right back to calling me an idiot, won't you?

Mother Nature is a freaky lady who probably created pot so she could spend all her time smoking it.

I'll challenge senators and kings for the right to know the truth, but far be it from me to challenge a woman in her own kitchen.

Think about that for a moment. They died for you. Now take a good look at the life you're living and tell me: Did they do the right thing?

He's going to be okay," said Quentin. "He has to. He's Tybalt. You'd be all weird and irritating if he wasn't around." "Weird and irritating?" I raised an eyebrow. "What gives you that idea?" Quentin shrugged. "That's already how you get when he isn't around.

Past experience told me he could smell my fear; it also told me that the anger accompanying it would pretty much cover the scent. It's good to know how to compensate for your own weaknesses.​