Once something becomes discernible, or understandable, we no longer need to repeat it. We can destroy it.

The border between the Real and the Unreal is not fixed, but just marks the last place where rival gangs of shamans fought each other to a standstill.

You know, I have found a new way to get high and stay spaced out for hours on end, and the government can't stop me... It's called senility.

On a planet that increasingly resembles one huge Maximum Security prison, the only intelligent choice is to plan a jail break.

Most of our ancestors were not perfect ladies and gentlemen. The majority of them weren't even mammals.