My Day Job Is Making Tv Shows.

I Leave You, Hoping That The Lamp Of Liberty Will Burn In Your Bosoms Until There Shall No Longer Be A Doubt That All Mean Are Created Free And Equal.

My Men Have Suffered Greatly (from Boredom), Much Blood Has Been Shed (by Mosquitoes), And I Have Swung My Ax Mightily (chopping Firewood). Surely We Have Earned Our Place In The Annals Of History—for Never Has There Been So Little War In A War.

I Nearly Broke Out Laughing When The Wrteched Soothsayer Warned Caesar: "beware The Ides Of April." I Thought It A Miracle (and A Relief) That No One In The Udience Had Snickered Or Yelled Out A Correction. How Could Such An Error Be Made By An Actor? Had My Ears Deceived Me?

Thank You, Sir, But I Am Perfectly Content Being The Bride Of Death.

Any Man Who Has Seen The Face Of Death Knows Better Than To Seek Him Out A Second Time.