It's expectation that differentiates you from the dead.

There is no irritant as painful as an ace up your sleeve that you can never use; it's the kind of thing that causes oysters to produce pearls.

Californians are good at planning for the earthquake, while simultaneously denying it will happen.

The freeway is the last frontier. It is unsurpassed as a training ground for the sharpening of survival skills.

Ghetto humor is the social twin of fantasy; together they sustain the powerless, who accomplish miracles through illusion.

in California death is one of the most successfully kept secrets there is. If you doubt this, try to find a cemetery.

Sundays are terrible because it is clear that there is no one in charge of the world. And this knowledge leave you drifting around, grappling with unfulfilled expectations and vague yearnings.