My luck is getting worse and worse. Last night, for instance, I was mugged by a quaker.

I don't wanna live on in my work. I wanna live on in my apartment.

Why are our days numbered and not, say, lettered?

All people know the same truth. Our lives consist of how we choose to distort it.

I was thrown out of college for cheating on the metaphysics exam; I looked into the soul of the boy sitting next to me.

Error, no keyboard. Press F1 to continue.

I have no idea what I am doing but incompetence has never prevented me from plunging in with enthusiasm.