A man lies upon the floor, spreads his arms, and transforms himself into a ship of a thousand sails.

The doctor frowned upon drinking and often expressed wonderment at men who willingly made imbeciles of themselves.

Because promises matter. They matter now more than ever.

You are the human clay," Vosch whispers fiercely in my ear. "And I am Michelangelo. I am the master builder, and you will be my masterpiece.

What were they thinking? 'It's an alien apocalypse! Quick, grab the beer!

We’re here, and then we’re gone, and it’s not about the time we’re here, but what we do with the time.

I do not mean to mock or ridicule your life's work, for in one way at least it mimics my own: We have dedicated our lives to the pursuit of phantoms. The difference is the nature of those phantoms. Mine exist between other men's ears; yours live solely between your own.