I'm told we movie critics praise movies that are long and boring.

We spend too much time hiding illness.

Last year, I reviewed a nine-hour documentary about the lives of Mongolian yak herdsmen, and I would rather see it again than sit through The Frighteners.

Show me a sexual practice that involves ice cubes and hot sauce, and I will show you a sexual practice that would be improved without them.

I think we have to get beyond the idea that we have to categorize people.

Low self esteem involves imagining the worst that other people can think about you.

Dogs remember every favor you ever do for them and store those events in a memory bank titled Why My Human Is A God.