I fear that I may someday choke on my own restraint.
Their lack of vanity reeks of vanity.
Were my thoughts deeds even Satan would sweat.
My prophet can beat up your prophet!
Death: that moment when Soul gives Body the slip, and Body gives Soul the heave-ho.
God: the most desperate and widely recognized manifestation of our collective loneliness.
Better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all.
I am quite certain that God would breath a cosmic sigh of relief if people stopped believing.
I feel most sane when in the company of those who believe they are sane.
Nearly everything I write is a deserted novel, poem or suicide note masquerading as a clever quip.