How oft do they rescue or ruin us, through whimsy or design or a combination of both, the adults to whom we entrust our care!

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

He asks me what happened to my leg. I told him I was shot by a shark. He doesn't react. Doesn't seem confused or amused or anything. Like getting shot by a shark is a perfectly natural thing in the aftermath of the arrival.

As long as you draw breath anywhere -here or ten thousands miles from here- I will love you. I can't help loving you, so I choose to hate you...to make my love bearable.

In case you're an alien and you're reading this: BITE ME.

Self-pity is egotism undiluted, after all—self-centeredness in its purest form.

You know how sometimes you tell yourself that you have a choice, but really you don't have a choice? Just because there are alternatives doesn't mean they apply to you.