Some days we gracefully ride the crest of the wave all the way into shore, and the next day it crashes over us and takes us under. Which waves we catch and which ones catch us is anyone's guess.

...I found pens, ink, and paper, and I husbanded them to the utmost; and I shall show that while my ink lasted, I kept things very exact, but after that was gone I could not, for I could not make any ink by any means that I could devise.

[Gustav von] Bunge […] claims that its [alcohol's] primary action is that of a depressant, and that its apparent good effects are simply due to the obtusing influence upon physical and mental suffering. But this is scarcely a correct assumption, as there are individuals in whom the smallest doses produce palpitation of the heart, throbbing of the carotids, and great mental activity. He also claims that alcohol does not produce renewed vigor in tired individuals, but simply obtuses this feeling of exhaustion.

No wonder then that I felt compelled when coming upon Tony and John's contest-in-insults to glare and say, Hey, you kiss your mother with that mouth?