“Cleanliness is not next to godliness. It isn’t even in the same neighborhood. No one has ever gotten a religious experience out of removing burned-on cheese from the grill of the toaster oven.”

Giving birth is little more than a set of muscular contractions granting passage of a child. Then the mother is born.

Guilt: the gift that keeps on giving.

Housework is a treadmill from futility to oblivion with stop-offs at tedium and counter productivity.

Grandparenthood is one of life’s rewards for surviving your own children.

I’ve exercised with women so thin that buzzards followed them to their cars.

Did you ever notice that the first piece of luggage on the carousel never belongs to anyone?

My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.

I am not a glutton – I am an explorer of food.

I haven’t trusted polls since I read that 62% of women had affairs during their lunch hour. I’ve never met a woman in my life who would give up lunch for sex.

The grass is always greener over the septic tank.

People usually survive their illnesses, but the paper work eventually does them in. Filing a claim for insurance is terminal.

Kids need love the most when they’re acting most unlovable.

Like religion, politics, and family planning, cereal is not a topic to be brought up in public. It’s too controversial.

Once you see the drivers in Indonesia you understand why religion plays such a part in their lives.

If I had my life to live over, instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished ever moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

One never realizes how different a husband and wife can be until they begin to pack for a trip.

Cleaning the house while the children are home is like shoveling while it’s still snowing.

Throw dirt on my name, and I still come out clean.

The lamp burns bright when wick and oil are clean.

There is nothing we can do about others’ hatred. We can only keep our own hearts clean.

It’s a filthy world blessed are those who leave here with their hands clean.

Will you try being a minimalist? Reduce the clutter, the daily list? A clean blank page, room for something new. Darkness to Light, half a life you could have missed.

The secret thoughts of a man run over all things, holy, profane, clean, obscene, grave, and light, without shame or blame.

Don’t sanitize your story so others can feel clean.