He Who Fights, Can Lose.

I Don't Trust Him. We're Friends.

The Man Who Laughs Has Simply Not Yet Had The Terrible News.

When Crimes Begin To Pile Up They Become Invisible. When Sufferings Become Unendurable The Cries Are No Longer Heard. The Cries, Too, Fall Like Rain In Summer.

Recently My Fingers Have Developed A Prejudice Against Comparatives. They All Follow This Pattern: A Squirrel Is Smaller Than A Tree; A Bird Is More Musical Than A Tree. Each Of Us Is The Strongest One In His Or Her Own Skin. Characteristics Should Take Off Their Hats To One Another, Instead Of Spitting In Each Other's Faces.

Love Is Also Like A Coconut Which Is Good While It Is Fresh, But You Have To Spit It Out When The Juice Is Gone, What's Left Tastes Bitter.