Love: the sickest of Irony’s sick jokes. The place where logic and order go to die.
You know, there’s a 12 step program for gambling. You should look into that. Twelve steps. Coyote laughed. I’ll bet I can do it in six.
Like God’s own chocolate, I’d lick her shadow off a hot sidewalk.
Routine feeds the illusion of safety...
The medium obscured the message.
Ack! Parables. I hate parables.
You’re going to break my heart, aren’t you?
Blessed are the meek, for to them we shall say “attaboy”.
Just because he was pretty didn’t mean he couldn’t be improved by a smack upside the head with a piece of earnest hickory.
He had risked his freedom and his pride to buy her this, to acknowledge that part of her that everyone else seemed to want to get rid of.
This story is not and never was meant to challenge anyone’s faith; however, if one’s faith can be shaken by stories in a humorous novel, one may have a bit more praying to do.
Why understand when you can believe?
Anger is the spirits telling you that you are alive.
Foul and magical fumes bubbled out of the kettle, like the flatulence of a dragon on a demon-only diet.
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.
All killer whales are named Kevin. You knew that, right?
We know there’s going to be nothing but pain, but we go back again and again.
You were supposed to empathize with your friend’s problem, but they were, after all, your friend’s problems...
Life is messy. Would that every puzzle piece fell into place, every word was kind, every accident happy, but such is not the case. Life is messy.
This Roberto. He no like the light.
I fear you may become a lonely man, even in the company of others.