Sweetheart, wake up; you've destroyed the house and I need you to suffer for it.
One can't be free without action.
Enchantment and seduction were fine means of persuasion, but when time is short, an awkward but quick concussion could better serve a girl's purpose.
In business, as in politics, the public is ever so tolerant of those who slime.
Lonliness evaporated off of them like the steam off dry ice, and by morning it was just a cloud on the ceiling of the room, then gone with the light.
It's very difficult to stay angry when a room full of bald guys in orange robes start giggling. Buddhism.
If they'd been dogs, they would have all been in the yard eating grass and trying to yak up whatever was making them feel so lousy. Not a bone gnawed, not a ball chased-all tails went unwagged. Oh, life is a fast cat, a short leash, a flea in that place where you just can't scratch.
The medium obscured the message.
Most of us don't live our lives with one, integrated self that meets the world, we're a whole bunch of selves.
Devil's Food?" You can only eat so much white cake, my friend.
Kayso, it turns out that driving an actual car is way harder than it is in 'Grand Theft Auto: Zombie Hooker Smackdown.
...then he looked at my T-shirt and saw Byron's picture on it and he quoted "She Walks in Beauty," which is like my favorite poem next to the one by Baudelaire about his girlfriend being nothing but worm food, except that Lily called that one first because Baudelaire is her fave poet and so she got the shirt with him on it, even though Byron is way more scrumptious and I would do him on sharp gravel if I had the chance. --from The Chronicles of Abby Normal
Then someone started pounding on the door. And not a little "Hey, what's up?" pound. Like there was a big sale on door pounds down at the Pound Outlet. Buy one, get one free at Pounds-n-Stuff. --Being the Journal of Abby Normal
This Roberto. He no like the light.
All killer whales are named Kevin. You knew that, right?
You were supposed to empathize with your friend's problem, but they were, after all, your friend's problems.
Marry for love, stay married, and raise happy children who are quick to laugh and slow to judge.
She laughed. My favorite music.
It's Christmas! Ah, Christmas, the time when all good people go about not decapitating each other.
How could you deal with a creature as devious as woman.
It’s like he has this power over me—like I have an eating disorder and he’s a package of Oreo Double Stuff cookies.
One day the good times had to keep on rolling, and all of life's horseshit would turn to circuses.
...she is too beautiful, I think, to not be inherently evil.
It was an eight-harlot inn, if that's how you measure an inn. (I understand that now they measure inns in stars. We are in a four-star inn right now. I don't know what the conversion from harlots to stars is.)
Winter near the shore is cold. The wind kicks up a salty mist and elephant seals come to shore to trumpet and rut and birth their pups. Retired people put sweaters on their lap dogs and drag them down the street on retractable leashes in a nightly parade of doggy humiliation. Surfers don their wetsuits against the chill of storm waves and white sharks adjust their diets to include shrink-wrapped dude-snacks on fiberglass crackers.
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