Don't talk. Kill it." That might be the sweetest thing a woman's ever said to me on a first date.

Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.

The place looks like where David Lynch would meet Beaver Cleaver's mom for secret afternoons of bondage and milkshakes.

I'm steel-toed boots in a ballet-slipper world.

That's what Glocks are. High-precision killing machines that scream "Daddy Issues.

He wore his fear on his skin for everyone to see.

When you jump off a cliff, is it better to land on jagged rocks or burning lava? I know this one. The answer is obvious: It doesn't matter where you land. You just jumped off a cliff.

Enemies will kill you with a knife in the back. Friends will kill you with kindness. Either way you're dead.

I came ready to fight Genghis Khan and I walk in on a shut-in playing the biggest Dungeons and Dragons game in history.

If Jesus was a bartender, He would still only be half as cool as Carlos.

No wonder Sherlock Holmes did all that coke. Math is hard.

It ended sadly. The kind of ending where you wait together, holding hands and weeping, while off in another room, love slowly dies.

I haven't got anything against cats. I haven't got anything against elk either, but that doesn't mean I'm going to keep one in the store so I'll have a place to hang my hat.

Among the plastic saints of our times, Jesus has to do all the dying, and all we want to hear is another sermon about his dying.

Other people sound flat to my ear; their words just hang in the air. But when my mother says something, the ends curl.

From the very first time I rest my eyes on you, girl, My heart says follow through.

Love shall be our token; love be yours and love be mine.

You don't have to say you love me, just be close at hand. You don't have to stay for ever, I will understand.

I must dissent emphatically from any proposal to spend any money on preparing a statue of me, more especially at a time when people do not have enough food and clothing.

But, at the moment, when I step on the pitch, when I have the ball I know it's mine. It's just a feeling.

Feminists have confused opportunity with outcome.