Killing Makes Me Feel Good.

I Am Not Shy About Admitting My Modest Talents. For Example, I Am Happy To Admit That I Am Better Than Average At Clever Remarks, And I Also Have A Flair For Getting People To Like Me. But To Be Perfectly Fair To Myself, I Am Ever-ready To Confess My Shortcomings, Too, And A Quick Round Of Soul-searching Forced Me To Admit That I Had Never Been Any Good At All At Breathing Water. As I Hung There From The Seat Belt, Dazed And Watching The Water Pour In And Swirl Around My Head, This Began To Seem Like A Very Large Character Flaw.

What To Wear? I Could Think Of No Guidelines On What We Were Wearing This Season To A Party Forced On You To Celebrate An Unwanted Engagement That Might Turn Into A Violent Confrontation With A Vengeful Maniac. Clearly Brown Shoes Were Out, But Beyond That Nothing Really Seemed De Rigueur.

In Its Own Way The Kiss Had Been An Act Of Murder.

A Man Can Take Only So Much. Even A Phony Man Like Me.

It's Terrible To Have To Depend On Someone Else.