Jesus made me, so he should save me from pity, sympathy and idiots discussing me.

You are a work of art.

When they bury me in a church and chuck earth on my grave, I'd like the words 'Well, at least he tried' engraved on my tombstone.

There are some bad people on the rise; they're saving their own skins by ruining people's lives.

Denmark is sadly a hellish place if you happen to be a pig, but the brioche and fruits that tower on the table before me have me hastily attaching a feedbag.

Even I, as sick as I am, I would never be you. Even I, sick and depraved, a traveler to the grave, I would never be you.

You can't help but feel that the Chinese people are a subspecies.