Cynicism Has Its Own Zealots.

If I Could Do My Life Over, I Would Try To Cleanse At Least My Pleasures Of Self-pity.

Like A Frog, The Aphorist Waits For Something To Fly By That He Can Catch With His Tongue.

Victimization Has Its Privileges, And I Want Some.

The Writer Is Always Courted By Invitations From The All-too- Familiar.

Never Trust The Judgment Of An Enthusiastic Man; Never Trust The Promises Of A Lazy One.