She's Evil. Evil, Evil, Evil. I Want

It's Very Difficult To Stay Angry When A Room Full Of Bald Guys In Orange Robes Start Giggling. Buddhism.

In Fact, He Sorely Hoped That It Would Happen, Because Otherwise, The World Made No Sense, There Was No Justice, And Life Was Just A Tangled Ball Of Chaos.

Perhaps There Is A Reason That There Is No Fool Piece On The Chessboard. What Action, A Fool? What Strategy, A Fool? What Use, A Fool? Ah, But A Fool Resides In A Deck Of Cards, A Joker, Sometimes Two. Of No Worth, Of Course. No Real Purpose. The Appearance Of A Trump, But None Of The Power: Simply An Instrument Of Chance. Only A Dealer May Give Value To The Joker.

It Was Watching Madeline Alby Eat Cheese With Every Ounce Of Her Being, Like It Was The First And Best Time, That Made Him Realize That He Had Never Really Tasted Cheese, Or Crackers, Or Life. And He Didn't Want His Daughter To Live That Way. He'd Moved Her Into Her Own Room The Night Before...he Hadn't Slept Well, And Had Gotten Up Five Times During The Night To Check On Her, Only To Find Her Sleeping Peacefully, But He Could Lose A Little Sleep If Sophie Could Go Through Life Without His Fears And Limitations. He Wanted Her To Experience All The Glorious Cheese Of Life.

Like Looking Down On A Lubricious Chess Set, Isn't It? The King Moves In Tiny Steps, With No Direction, Like A Drunkard Trying To Avoid The Archer's Bolt. The Others Work Their Strategies And Wait For The Old Man To Fall. He Has No Power, Yet All Power Moves In His Orbit And To His Mad Whim. Do You Know There's No Fool Piece On The Chessboard, Kent?" "methinks The Fool Is The Player, The Mind Above The Moves.