Five exclamation marks: the sure sign of an insane mind.

I became a journalist at 17. A few hours later, I saw my first dead body, which was somewhat... colourful. That's when I learned you can go on throwing up after you run out of things to throw up.

Whole new theories of money were growing here like mushrooms: in the dark and based on bullshit.

Dickens, as you know, never got round to starting his home page.

It was written in some holy book, apparently, so that made it okay, and probably compulsory.

Whatever happens, they say afterwards, it must have been fate. People are always a little confused about this, as they are in the case of miracles. When someone is saved from certain death by a strange concatenation of circumstances, they say that's a miracle. But of course if someone is killed by a freak chain of events -- the oil spilled just there, the safety fence broken just there -- that must also be a miracle. Just because it's not nice doesn't mean it's not miraculous.

Tell someone you are going to rob them and all that will happen is that you'll get a reputation as a truthful man.