“I want a trophy that has atrophy—where the maquette on top isn’t sculpted metal, but rather a flaccid sack of jelly that sags and droops.”

“While I appear to be happy and giggling, rest assured that inside I am sad. And angry. Like that one time—Feb 14, 1997, at 1:47 pm to be exact—when John Beaverthief stole my girlfriend. He snatched her from the shelf of my life like she was a trophy wife. But she was no trophy; she was more of a maquette.”

“A trophy isn’t about the hardware, the gold-painted statue mounted on marble, it’s about the recognition of excellence. A trophy is a physical representation of the abstract concepts of hard work and dedication. And that’s precisely why I don’t have any trophies.
”

“The mountains are where God proves He’s better than Michelangelo at sculpting.”

“I want a trophy wife. I’ll keep her on the shelf next to my future Nobel peace prize. (I plan on inventing a gun that shoots love, not bullets.)
”

“Cats have the curiosity of a genius, while dogs have the intellect of a sack of manure covered in hair and mulch made from bark (so loud). Actually, that assessment isn’t quite fair. Sacks of manure are smarter than dogs, and make better best friends (I should know, because I’ve lost three best friends to landscaping incidents in the last year alone, which left me alone).”

“I want to meddle with an Olympic medal made of silver metal. I want to alchemize it into gold, and use a mixture of science and mysticism to transform losing into winning.”