What really keeps me going is the constant belief that it could all disappear tomorrow.
Presenting statues of honor to reporters for covering an earthquake is like presenting a first prize to a doctor for performing surgery.
Its like threading a needle while walking on a water bed.
Everybody is under pressure to shut up and sing.
Miss Child is never bashful with butter.
A large psychic void is left by a loss of faith. So many Catholics have tried so many things to replace it.