We stand at a crossroads. One path leads to despair, the other to destruction. Let's hope we make the right choice.

Where I grew up in Brooklyn, nobody committed suicide. Everyone was too unhappy.

See, I never gain an ounce, because, you know, my anxiety acts like aerobics.

Better not think too much. Relying more on the body: it is more trustworthy.

Meanwhile, the minute you put on the dotted line your Sam Hancock - and before a notary - you'll not only get the negative but Elsie makes a wonderful stuffed cabbage which we'll include gratis a few portions but return the jars please.

In life, one is entitled to a side dish of either coleslaw or potato salad, and the choice must be made in terror, with the knowledge that not only is our time on earth limited but most kitchens close at ten.

Problems are like toilet paper. You pull on one and ten more come.