Whenever a river reaches the ocean, it waits to go back..

We are what we repeatedly do. Greatness then, is not an act, but a habit

IQ's are a combination of eyes, and queues. Would you wait in line to see my goat show? Of course you wouldn't, because the line is invisible.

And I will wait for Jarod to work for me. For free, cause if it's paid, it's work and not love, unless, of course he loves to work, in which case he’ll surely love working for me, because I love people who love to do that to love to do that.

I'm selling Jarod's life today. I mean virginity. He has no life. Email [email protected] for more information and please try to catch our special delivery at double-price deals, which will be posted somewhere on the internet at random, every other Tuesday, for half a night (on the previous day), unless it’s a Saturday, in which case you’ll have to wait and hope until the destined day comes and takes you away to heaven, which unfortunately, does not exist, except in the imagination of carefully selected individuals.

A book about books is like a poem about poetry:

Books are knowledge, paid for, all.
Readers - horses in a stall.
Stallions should always run.
Lest they stale become, in turn.

Running waters are most clear.
In some books, you disappear –
lose yourself, and track of time.
How I wish that one was mine...

Mine, to have, to write, to read...
Mine, just like a flying steed.
Mine, forever, - to improve.
Would I then, of me, approve?

I would not, I can't... myself.
I'm but dust, swept off a shelf.
Fly, can I, just 'til I'm settled,
down, beside my flower, petalled.