“I’m in danger of losing my job as official scribe to my inner voice.”

“I like a little danger. Tame danger, controlled by me. It gives me a sense of power, I guess, to take my life in my hands and know damn well I’m not going to lose it.”

“Helena, my love,” she heard a deep voice whisper from behind. Helena gasped and held on tight to that breath. Jeans clutched to her chest, she turned slowly toward the voice. There was no one there. “It’s official. I’m obsessed.”

“Well then, I guess I’m man enough to admit that I’m trying to get in touch with my inner bitch.”

“The things, good Lord, that we pray for, give us the grace to labour for’, as Sir Thomas More expressed it. The inner voice of prayer expresses itself naturally in action, just as the inner voice of my brain guides all my bodily actions.”

“My job is so boring I’m thinking of boring a second hole into my penis.”