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He never once contemplated matrimony. It was not a risk he cared to undertake, and instead he engaged in what might be described as two illicit relationships.

I caught Mitchell on the side of the neck. His mouth yapped. He hit me somewhere, but it wasn't important. Mine was the better punch, but it didn't win the wrist watch, because at that moment an army mule kicked me square on the back of my brain. I went zooming out over a dark sea and exploded in a sheet of flame.

Watching the Baltimore Ravens play football is like watching scum freeze on the eyeballs of a jackass, or being stuck for 6 hours in an elevator with Dick Cheney on speed.

March is an ugly month for gamblers. It is a time of deep mud, foul treachery, and guaranteed personal failures. I have always hated March for personal reasons; but as a Gambler, I really hate it.

In truth, we should have hanged ourselves a long time ago. We have been so beaten, muzzled, deprived of all rights, and stripped of all laws. We live as such vile slaves amidst incessant insults and slaps in the face!

Today is another holiday -- the anniversary of the Revolution. But there are no people on the streets, and not at all because winter storms have again made their appearance. Everyone is just tired of it all.

Once it was universally accepted that anyone who deliberately aimed at the job [of head of state] should automatically be disqualified, almost any system would serve equally well, and a lottery was the simplest procedure.

Public opinion declares itself in America without the slightest reserve, or the slightest care for consequences.

When that one forlorn shall lie
Graveless under the open sky,
That shall be a certain sign
Of the end of Monkton's line.
Dwindling ever faster, faster,
Dwindling to the last-left master;
From mortal ken, from light of day,
Monkton's race shall pass away.

MEM. 5 ALONG. 4 ACROSS. It was the measurement, most likely, of something, and he was afraid of forgetting it; therefore, it was something important.

I had been emotionally involved a few times with women with enough of a record of promiscuity to make me vaguely uneasy. It is difficult to put too much value on something the lady has distributed all too generously.

Valancourt no longer lived for her! She had no longer even the melancholy satisfaction of contemplating his image in her heart, for he was no longer the same Valancourt she had cherished there—the solace of many a mournful hour, the animating friend, that had enabled her to bear up against the oppression of Montoni—the distant hope, that had beamed over her gloomy prospect!

I see you are still thinking of Mons. Valancourt. Pray get rid of all those fantastic notions about love, and this ridiculous pride, and be something like a reasonable creature. But, however, this is nothing to the purpose—for your marriage with the Count takes place tomorrow, you know, whether you approve it or not. The Count will be trifled with no longer.

The whole string of these rooms, here, are shut up. As I was passing along the corridor, and not thinking a word about the matter, or even of the strange voice that the Signors heard the other night, all of a sudden comes a great light, and, looking behind me, there was a tall figure gliding along into the room, that is always shut up, and nobody has the key of it but the Signor, and the door shut directly.

I see you are still thinking of Mons. Valancourt. Pray get rid of all those fantastic notions about love, and this ridiculous pride, and be something like a reasonable creature. But, however, this is nothing to the purpose—for your marriage with the Count takes place tomorrow, you know, whether you approve it or not. The Count will be trifled with no longer.

He found great pleasure in conversing with Valancourt, and in listening to his ingenuous remarks. The fire and simplicity of his manners seemed to render him a characteristic figure in the scenes around them; and St Aubert discovered in his sentiments the justness and dignity of an elevated mind unbiassed by intercourse with the world.

I even think the best definition of man is: a being that goes on two legs and is ungrateful.

A certain saint once read that Mohammed had a broken tooth. To become like Mohammed, the saint took a stone and knocked out his own tooth. Then he began to worry that he had knocked out the wrong one. Just to be safe, he knocked out his remaining 31 teeth.

Officer Bernadette Manuelito had been having a busy day, enjoying most of it, and no longer feeling like the greenest rookie of the Navajo Tribal Police.

The absurd is born of this confrontation between the human need and the unreasonable silence of the world.

She was said to have bathed in the blood of up to two hundred virgins at a time. I don't believe that. Use more than eighty virgins and even quite a large bath will overflow.

Why are vampires always so stupid? As if wearing evening dress all day wasn't an undead giveaway, why do they choose to live in old castles which offer so much in the way of ways to defeat a vampire, like easily torn curtains and wall decorations that can readily be twisted into a religious symbol?

A man that is born falls into a dream like a man who falls into the sea. If he tries to climb out into the air as inexperienced people endeavour to do, he drowns—nicht wahr? . . . No! I tell you! The way is to the destructive element submit yourself, and with the exertions of your hands and feet in the water make the deep, deep sea keep you up.

He saw himself saving people from sinking ships, cutting away masts in a hurricane, swimming through a surf with a line; or as a lonely castaway, barefooted and half naked, walking on uncovered reefs in search of shellfish to stave off starvation. He confronted savages on tropical shores, quelled mutinies on the high seas, and in a small boat upon the ocean kept up the hearts of despairing men.

I am not going to get involved with his troubles, I told myself. When you use, you lose. A mean lesson, but when you get involved with an addict or a drunk, you simply become an actor in a script that they've written for you as well as themselves.

For what is war? what is it, Yorick, when fought as ours has been, upon principles of liberty, and upon principles of honour—what is it, but the getting together of quiet and harmless people, with their swords in their hands, to keep the ambitious and the turbulent within bounds?

There was that infinitude of oddities in him, and of chances along with it, by which handle he would take a thing,—it baffled, Sir, all calculations.—The truth was, his road lay so very far on one side, from that wherein most men travelled,—that every object before him presented a face and section of itself to his eye, altogether different from the plan and elevation of it seen by the rest of mankind.

What a lucky chapter of chances has this turned out! for it has saved me the trouble of writing one express, and in truth I have enough already upon my hands without it.—Have not I promised the world a chapter of knots? two chapters upon the right and the wrong end of a woman? a chapter upon whiskers? a chapter upon wishes?—a chapter of noses?—No, I have done that.

Could a historiographer drive on his history, as a muleteer drives on his mule,—straight forward;—for instance, from Rome all the way to Loretto, without ever once turning his head aside, either to the right hand or to the left,—he might venture to foretell you to an hour when he should get to his journey's end;—but the thing is, morally speaking, impossible: For, if he is a man of the least spirit, he will have fift

The boss hates anything crooked. I'm sure of that. It bothers him even if that picture-frame is a quarter of an inch crooked. That's why I've decided to spend the rest of my days working for him.