That old feeling is still in my leaking heart.

You see, should I stand in front of a landscape and paint it, I'm completely ignoring the factor of time. While I am painting it, it's changing, clouds are changing, all sorts of things. So there's the myth there of someone creating in a timeless vacuum.

Exorcism is a subject that interests me, and books on shamanism, I've read through.

There's a boy across the river with an ass like a peach; alas I was no swimmer and lost my Clementine.

Now what sort of man or woman or monster would stroke a centipede I have ever seen? And here is my good big centipede! If such a man exists, I say kill him without more ado. He is a traitor to the human race.

The more absolute the need, the more predictable the behavior becomes until it is mathematically certain.

When people start talking about their bowel movements, they are inexorable as the processes of which they speak.