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.