A Drink This Good Deserves One's Best

There Is No Them. There Are Only Facets Of Us.

Stupid Truth, Always Resisting Simplicity

Those Of Us Who Frequent The Band Room Have Long Suspected That Becca Maintains Her Lovely Figure By Eating Nothing But The Souls Of Kittens And The Dreams Of Impoverished Children.

I'm A Grenade And At Some Point I'm Going To Blow Up And I Would Like To Minimize The Casualties, Okay?

I Wouldn’t Have A Career If It Weren’t For Independent Bookstores.