I had a dream about you. The seasons changed, but you did not. You were the same old person you always were, only older. And I was the same old person I always was, only younger. Yes, I’d discovered the Fountain of Youth, and since we were such old friends, I was going to let you have a swig for 10% off the suggested retail price.

Only the living can read. This means that when I write, my target market is people of the future. Greetings, people of the moon!

I like to vote, but not be voted on. I don’t mind losing one on one, but to lose through a vote means the majority think I’m a loser.
Put your middle finger and your thumb together. And make it snappy.

I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that your house hasn't burned down, you don't have cancer, and your daughter hasn't been raped or murdered. The bad news is that I ran over your dog. And your son. And his wife. But not before I ran out of gas to achieve all of that.
I want to own a wind farm. Don’t breathe, or you’ll undermine the price of my crop.
Would women find vampires even sexier and more romantic if instead of fangs they had rose thorns? It’s thoughts like these I think of when digging in my garden, looking for my one true love (If only I could remember where I buried her!).

I ate a rainbow in a bowl, because it’s better than eating rain soup. Food and water aren’t supposed to be one and the same.

I want to create a seventeen-syllable word that encompasses the human condition, and then use that word to form the world’s most perfect haiku.
I had a dream about you. We were standing next to each other, and a stranger asked for the time. My watch said 3:32, and yours said 3:33. I got concerned because somewhere I’d lost a minute, so you and I spent two minutes looking for it.