At home in bed that first night I had patchy, mundane dreams about normal things. It would be nobler and less uncomfortable to write that I tossed sleeplessly.

I think each family has a funhouse logic all its own, and in that distortion, in that delusion, all behavior can seem both perfectly normal and crazy.

I no longer feel the need to see and sense more than I've already experienced. I just want so desperately to hang on what I have.

And for a moment it seemed to me as if I also were buried in a vast grave full of unspeakable secrets.

Yesterday in Egypt, archaeologists discovered the burial site for the 50 children of Ramses II...Fifty children! What I want to know is, who decided to name a condom after this guy?

My friends and I started making films when I was still in kindergarten.

You might be a redneck if...you've been on TV more than times describing the sound of a tornado.

Rick Steiner is so stupid, it takes him an hour and a half to watch 60 Minutes.

Greed is too flimsy to flawed

If it's worth feeling bad about, it's worthy of amnesia.

Moonlight making crosses on your body, and me putting my mouth on every one.

You speak to me in riddles, you speak to me in rhymes, my body aches to breathe your breath, your word keeps me alive.