Philosophy: A route of many roads leading from nowhere to nothing.

Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.

The most affectionate creature in the world is a wet dog.

War is God's way of teaching Americans geography.

In our civilization, and under our republican form of government, intelligence is so highly honored that it is rewarded by exemption from the cares of office.

Mayonnaise: One of the sauces which serve the French in place of a state religion.

Admiral. That part of a warship which does the talking while the figurehead does the thinking.

Spring beckons! All things to the call respond; the trees are leaving and cashiers abscond.

NEPOTISM, n. Appointing your grandmother to office for the good of the party.

Divorce: a resumption of diplomatic relations and rectification of boundaries.

Clairvoyant, n.: A person, commonly a woman, who has the power of seeing that which is invisible to her patron - namely, that he is a blockhead.

Big skirmishes over small misunderstanding make things bad in a relationship.

Why do the living assume the dead know better than we do? Like they gained some knowledge by dying, but why wouldn't they just be the same confused people they were before they died?

Dealing with complexity is an inefficient and unnecessary waste of time, attention and mental energy. There is never any justification for things being complex when they could be simple.

If they stop loving, be grateful for that.

No one is born with greed, prejudice, bigotry, patriotism and hatred; these are all learned behavior patterns.

It's sort of interesting how, when you get older, things that were once so important sort of fall away.

Hollywood is weird, man. The child-actor world is the weirdest. But somehow I survived.

I've been a DJ, janitor, ditch digger, waitress, computer instructor, programmer, mechanic, web developer, clerk, manager, marketing director, tour guide and dorm manager, among other things.

I just don't think it honors God to create mediocre art.

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.