Every Present Anger Derives From Past Weakness.

Telling The Truth Is A Beautiful Act Even If The Truth Itself Is Ugly.

The Message Is Clear: By All Means Become An Abomination -- But Only While Unhinged By Grief Or Wrath.

My Mother Once Told Me She Thought Hell Would Be Nothing More Than Being Given A Glimpse Of God--then Having It Taken Away, Forever.

You Can't Blame Me. I Mean That Literally. You're Incapable Of Blaming Me. You're Human. Being Human Is Choosing Freedom Over Imprisonment, Autonomy Over Dependency, Liberty Over Servitude. You Can't Blame Me Because You Know (come On, Man, You've Always Known) That The Idea Of Spending Eternity With Nothing To Do Except Praise God Is Utterly Unappealing. You'd Be Catatonic After An Hour. Heaven's A Swiz Because To Get In You Have To Leave Yourself Outside. You Can't Blame Me Because -- Now Do Please Be Honest With Yourself For Once -- You'd Have Left, Too.

Nicotine And Alcohol Embraced In My System Like Long-parted Siblings, Grateful To Me For Reuniting Them.