I threw an etiquette party and served nothing but beans and sparkling water. The topic of conversation was ‘excuse me’.

Alphabet: a symbolic system used in algebra, with applications that have yet to be discovered by dyslexics and two thirds of college graduates.

The idealist hopes. The romantic sees doom. The postmodernist sees doom and hopes.

The lampshade on my head is for my bright ideas. I won't be able to convey them until Monday, when my curtain gets out of the dry cleaners.

Pure joy is rare. That’s why for every meal I eat a really bloody steak.

Mom always said I was born to sit in the electric chair, but I'm proving her wrong. I'm going to die on my knees, begging for my life.

I bet there are a lot of women out there who want to sleep with a guy who reads. And being the head of the reading foundation, I’m very well endowed.

I love working with my hands. My writing is rough, my paper bruised with ink stains.

Night clubs are where Americans learn the laws of motion.

Education: learning to find your purpose. Upon finding your purpose: what did I learn?

If all women revealed their age, men would have nothing to hide from each other.

The people you need to help you make your dream come true are everywhere and within your reach.

When you stop talking you've lost your customer.

Everything is just so much more romantic and real when it's yours and it's private.

You can’t out-spend the giants, but you can out-think, out-teach, and out-help them.

If most men and women were forced to rely upon physical charm to attract lovers, their sexual lives would be not only meager but in a youth-worshiping country like America painfully brief.

We sort of read two or three big newspapers but we don't get the flavor of the local events, the local news as much.

Love may be the ultimate solution to all man's difficulties, problems and travails.

I felt like I had just double-tapped Santa.

Learning about ourselves is rather inconvenient because it turns the world we live in upside down.

A change of environment is the traditional fallacy upon which doomed loves, and lungs, rely.