You must go on. I can’t go on. I’ll ramble on.
When I run out of things to do I write an itinerary: When all else fails fill sandbags to convert
We are sleeping on God And our slumber is What keeps God up at night Worried we won’t make it home Where the heart is
At bottom God is a brute fact and Satan a brutal fact
Any self-respecting materialist Knows they have no soul And any self-respecting AI Knows it has no soul But in this belief
I can’t say I have wants and needs; mainly I don’t want to be needy
Anxiety, like loneliness, is a sig… that something is very wrong and amidst an epidemic of anxiety with no end in sight the greatest danger lies in
In becoming a celebrity a person meets the same kind of de… that a tree does in becoming a Christmas tree– embalmed in sugar
We don’t have to take care of our… But we have no choice God doesn’t have to be with us But He always is– The choice is ours
Big Brother used to just Cross his fingers To avoid telling the truth Then uncrossed them into a V for Vacancy
The best way to prevent something from happenin… is to convince people that it already did
We spend most of our waking lives alternating between procrastinatio… and delayed gratification as if by putting things off we’ve bought ourselves more time
How much of your conflict with other tribes is the result of your efforts to avoid conflict within your own tribe?
If my peccadillos Are mere cigarillos Why is my hide as thick as an arma…
No one wanted to wear augmented reality goggles until our design team hit upon the idea of making them look
