“Take your bottom lip and pull it over your head.”

I guess the real reason that my wife and I had children is the same reason that Napoleon had for invading Russia: it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I often try to tell kids to think about all the people who love you, don’t cry over the one person who doesn’t.

The essence of childhood, of course, is play, which my friends and I did endlessly on streets that we reluctantly shared with traffic.

Give me 200 active 2-year-olds and I could conquer the world.

You are a genius! and I am a genius because I married you.

Violence won’t solve a thing. It makes it more challenging to solve, though.

That’s why ears have cartilage, to keep them from flapping.

Decide that you want it more than you’re afraid of it.

Gray hair is gods graffiti.

Nothing separates the generations more than music. By the time a child is eight or nine, he has developed a passion for his own music that is even stronger than his passions for procrastination and weird clothes.

A sail boat that sails backwards can never see the sun rise.

Suddenly, this romantic agony was enriched by a less romantic one: I had to go to the bathroom. Needless to say, I couldn’t let her know about this urge, for great lovers never did such things. The answer to Romeo Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo? Was not In the men’s room, Julie.

It isn’t a matter of black is beautiful as much as it is white is not all that’s beautiful.

Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.

People can be more forgiving than you can imagine. But you have to forgive yourself. Let go of what’s bitter and move on.

Old is always fifteen years from now.

I have already prepared my counter proposal. It reads thusly: you may strategically place your wonderful lips upon my posterior and kiss it repeatedly!

A man who does not lick his lips, can he blame the harmattan for drying them?

You can preach a better sermon with your life than with your lips.

Ah, lips that say one thing, while the heart thinks another.

I want you to remember my lips beneath your fingers and how you told me things you never told another soul. I want you to know that I have kept sacred, everything you had entrusted in me and I always will.

A LISP programmer knows the value of everything, but the cost of nothing.

It was a question I had worn on my lips for days – like a loose thread on my favourite sweater I couldn’t resist pulling – despite knowing it could all unravel around me. “Do you love me, I ask?” In your hesitation I found my answer.

Lisp isn’t a language, it’s a building material.