If I was made of cake I'd eat myself before somebody else could.

... where there's one there's ten.'
That's crazy math.

A lot of the world seems to repeat itself

I hate desks; they make me feel like a child doing homework.

Every parent has those moments where they look at their child and think, 'There's a demon in those eyes and no one can see it but me!'

I suppose I wanted to have my cake and eat it.
But then again, what were you going to do with your cake if not eat it?
Frame it?
Use it as a sachet in your underwear drawer?