“As far as how my mom might view me, I can imagine her saying something like this to me: “You may be ugly, son, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be rich. In fact, it kind of means you have to be rich. At least if you don’t want to be asexual and alone your whole life.”

“My love may be invisible, but that doesn’t mean you can’t taste it. (It tastes like a sonic boom, only not as bitter).”

“If my last name were Bedient, I’d want to Irishize it and have you call me O’Bedient. Of course, just because you call me, doesn’t mean I’ll come.”

“Newt Gingrich, buddy, the people of the United States don’t like you. And the only reason the rest of the world doesn’t despise you is because they don’t know you. Thankfully you won’t have to experience that global derision, as you have reached the pinnacle of your career as a crook—I mean politician.”

“You don’t offend me. At least not until I change my name. Once I change it to Asshole, then I might be offended you keep calling me Jarod.”

“-Good thing you don’t own a mirror, Mr. Mirrorless, or you’d see how ugly you are.
-What makes you think I don’t own a mirror? Every face that ever looks at me tells me that I’m ugly. But every time I make them laugh, I get to show them what beauty really is.
-I see what you mean. Here, take my rearview mirror. I don’t need to carry it around like a vagina on a rope anymore.
-Mr. Thrustsalone, you don’t need to drag a vagina on a rope like some kind of pet on a leash to make you happy. There’s a reason why God invented right hands and hookers.
-Why, so politicians could have more productive ways to spend their time and our money than engaging in politics?
-Mr. Thrustsalone, you are wise beyond your years.
-I’m 88 years old.
-Yet you don’t look a day older than 87.”

“I have nothing, so I think having something would mean everything to me. But I don’t want to get to the point where I have everything, so having something would mean nothing to me.”