The level of stupidity was loosely commensurate to the level of ambition.

Distributorship killed the authorship star.

You’re less a quantifiable entity than a loosely tethered association of wave particles in a shared location.

Life slips through your fingers and comes back together somewhere else. You’re God-intoxicated. Or maybe just intoxicated.

The billion flinches that rebuilt your face.

In the days before Christmas we got tired of having no money. We sold everything at a loss, took the cash and headed south.

They had gone so long without, a compliment would have destroyed them.

This just in: internet preferable to all previous human endeavor.

Life happened; he never knew what hit him.

Like many spiritual leaders, he had a far higher asshole quotient than one would have expected from his public persona.

Every human relationship poses the question,
“which of us is the crazy one?”