Hey, you feel like driving today?" he asks. "I don't want to walk to the bus stop. It's too cold."
"You feel like dying today?"
"Sure. I like risking my life. Keeps things in perspective.

Christian is staring at us. He’s an only child and could never understand the delicate joys of sibling abuse.

Silver Avalanche coming up the driveway," calls Jeffrey from upstairs.
"What are you, security?" I call back.

All you need is love.

The worst part about her new chambers was that all these wardrobes and vanities and drapes meant there was no space--none at all--for a bookcase. Who on earth could feel comfortable enough to sleep in a room with no books?

What my wife desires--and what you should have guessed, had you paid attention--is bookcases. And books, of course, to fill them. Not more decorations or useless items. She wants books.