I kept talking. "Listen -- this is some kind of misunderstanding.
In the absences of a decent time machine, fiction remains the most sturdy vehicle for visiting other eras.
So little time and so little to do.
I've gone into hundreds of fortune-teller's parlors, and have been told thousands of things, but nobody ever told me I was a policewoman getting ready to arrest her.
We need anything politically important rationed out like Pez: small, sweet, and coming out of a funny, plastic head.
Worries go down better with soup than without.
Maybe the most any of us can expect of ourselves isn't perfection but progress.