I Am Going To The Bad Place,

I Do Not Go Outdoors. Not More Than I Have To. As Far As I'm Concerned, The Whole Point Of Living In New York City Is Indoors. You Want Greenery? Order The Spinach.

There's Nothing Particularly Wrong With Being More Pessimistic Than Optimistic. Optimism Is Broad-based, Non-detail-oriented Thinking; Pessimism Is Detail-oriented Thinking.

There Are Many Things In This World That Are An Outrage, To Be Sure, But Death At Our Current Life Expectancy Doesn’t Strike Me As One Of Them. Maybe I Sound Like Some Victorian Who Felt That Forty Years Ought To Be Enough For Any Man, But One Of The Marks Of A Life Well Lived Has To Be Reaching A State Of Finally Getting It, Of Not Needing More, And Of Being Able To Sign Off With Something Approaching Peace Of Mind.

Unfortunately, There's No Greater Rhyme Or Reason As To Why It Would Be Me. And Since There Is No Answer As To Why Me, It's Not A Question I Feel Really Entitled To Ask.

There Is Supercomputer Somewhere In The Nevada Desert Whose Sole Function Is To Count The Number Of Times That I Have Said The Following, Because It Is Unquantifiable By Human Minds At This Point, But This Time It’s Really True: I Should Have Stayed Home.