I think remorse ought to stop biting the consciences that feed it.
Remorse is violent dyspepsia of the mind.
Basketball, a game which won't be fit for people until they set the basket umbilicus-high and return the giraffes to the zoo.
A husband is a guy who tells you when you've got on too much lipstick and helps you with your girdle when your hips stick.
Wind is caused by the trees waving their branches.
In the world of mules there are no rules.