“I would hate to see seventeen people with monosyllabic names like Mike or Ann die, but if they did, and you wrote down all their names in groups of 5-7-5, you'd have one tragic haiku.”

“Our relationship is like ten turtles marching along, followed by seven beetles, with each carrying one monosyllabic word on its back. You might call that a haiku, but I call it love.”

“Someday I want to write a sixteen-syllable Haiku about the death and disappearance of a monosyllabic word.”

“Even if there were only seventeen syllables left in the universe, I still don’t think The Mythical Mr. Boo would write a haiku. Especially not if those syllables were groups of “oh,” “no,” “ah,” “ouch,” “ugh,” “eek,” and “shit!”

“When I have children I want an even number of boys and girls, and that’s why I want 15 kids—7 boys, 7 girls, and one hermaphrodite named Sam.”

“He had a last name for a first name, and a last name for a last name, but only because it came after his first name (the one that sounds like a last name). Otherwise, his last name would sound like a first name.”

“I have an inconsequential errand to run tomorrow so I’ll get up at 5, be there at 5:30, and wait for them to open up at 10. I’m never late, except in love.”