The truth is what is.

Contentment with the past, or the cold conventionality of custom, may no longer shut the door on science.

We would tease him about the countless hours he would spend soaking in suntan lotion as he lay on the same exact spot along the pool. How long were you in heaven this morning? my mother would ask. Two straight hours. But I plan to return early this afternoon for a much longer aprication.

They might as well walk as drive in this traffic.