What New England is, is a state of mind, a place where dry humor and perpetual disappointment blend to produce an ironic pessimism that folks from away find most perplexing

It is perhaps beside the point to remark that bowling alleys and supermarkets have nursery facilities, while schools and colleges and scientific laboratories and government offices do not.

How can we be alive and not wonder about the stories we knit together this place we call the world? Without stories our universe is merely rocks and clouds and lava and blackness. It's a village scraped raw by warm waters leaving not a trace of what existed before.

One can only tolerate the absolute idiocy of Man for so long before bringing out the bat.

When things are at their blackest, I say to myself, 'Cheer up, things could be worse.' And sure enough, they get worse.

No sense in being pessimistic. It wouldn't work anyway.