Sleep And Death, Who Are Twin Brothers.

The Life, Which Others Pay, Let Us Bestow, And Give To Fame What We To Nature Owe.

I Was Working On A Flat Tax Proposal And Accidentally Proved There Was No God.

Thou Wilt Lament Hereafter, When The Evil Shall Be Done And Shall Admit No Cure.

Now Son, You Don’t Want To Drink Beer. That’s For Daddies, And Kids With Fake Ids.

One Who Journeying Along A Way He Knows Not, Having Crossed A Place Of Drear Extent, Before Him Sees A River Rushing Swiftly Toward The Deep, And All Its Tossing Current White With Foam, And Stops And Turns, And Measures Back His Way.