Stored away in some brain cell is the image of a long-departed aunt you haven't thought of in 30 years. Stored away in another cell is the image of a pink pony stitched on your first set of baby pajamas. All it takes to get that aunt mounted on the back of that pony is to eat a hunk of meatloaf immediately before going to bed.

I'm right-handed, whereas the fellow in my mirror is left-handed

Words from the past: "It's a clever idea, Mr. Bell, but don't wire us, we'll wire you.

There are secrets I will take to the grave and others I'd feel safer having cremated.

In a houseful of toddlers and pets, you can start out having a bad day, but you keep getting detoured.

Life is too short to hold a grudge, also too long.

Time is a figure eight, at its center the city of Deja Vu.