Hope can be faintly heard in the cracking and crunching of a creosote tumble-brush bouncing along a sun-soaked desert road.
The winds of death orchestrate its desperate dance.
Routine is a drug for people who fear chaos.
A man’s character is measured by his time on screen.
A man’s dignity is reflected in the cut of his trousers.
Subversive verse is the transverse of transcendance.
I don’t like circles. Going in them. But I like the way they look. They are my favorite shape.
The milliner once said,
“If you reap what you sew, I suppose I have a bunch of hats.”
The woman replied,
“It doesn’t matter.”
Don’t do today what you’ll be forgotten for when you die.
Gertrude Stein wrote mighty fine, but Virginia Woolf made even Ginsburg howl.
Apple and cherry pies are symbolic of American excess.
There’s nothing wrong with pumpkin pie, however.
Pumpkin pie is the people’s pie.