Mosquitoland

by David Arnold

I say nothing. My quota for conversations with a stranger has officially been met. For the decade.

you should write. It’s better than succumbing to the madness of the world.”

I wish wishing were enough, but it’s not.

I guess when no one’s around to hear your stupidity, you’re forced to bear the brunt of it.

There are times when I absolutely, 110 percent, without a doubt, have to laugh at a thing. ’Cause if I don’t, that same thing will make me go stark-raving bananas.

“Help is help to anyone, Mary. Even if they don’t know they’re asking for it.”

When you were born, you cried while the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries while you rejoice.

People just can’t help themselves when it comes to quotation marks. As if they’re completely paralyzed by this particular punctuation. I guess it’s really not that big of a deal, but it does seem to be a widespread brand of easily avoidable buffoonery.

It’s an odd feeling, being chagrinned by your own generation.

Sheer mathematics dictates a ten-to-one ratio in favor of crazy.

I’ve never been more pleased with the outcome of a conversation, nor have I been more confident in my ability to rule the mother-effing world.

Sometimes being with gets overlooked I think.

it is my belief that there are some people whose sole purpose of existence is to show the rest of us how not to act.