“Though we might have precious littleIt's still preciousI like that song about this wonderful worldIt's got a sunny point of viewAnd sometimes I feel it's trueAt least for a few of usI like that world, it makes a wonderful songBut there's a darker point of viewBut sadly just as trueFor so many among usThough we might have precious littleIt's still preciousIn the sweetest child there's a vicious streakIn the strongest man there's a child so weakIn the whole wide world there's no magic placeSo you might as well rise put on your bravest faceI like that show where they solve all the murdersAn heroic point of viewIt's got justice and vengeance tooAt least so the story goesI like that story, makes a satisfying caseBut there's a messy point of viewThat's sadly just as trueFor so many among usIn softest voice there's an acid tongueIn the oldest eyes there's a soul so youngIn the shakiest will there's a core of steelOn the smoothest ride there's a squeaky wheelThough we might have precious littleIt's still precious”
“We have to do it, so there's no point in bitching.”
“Our time is so precious. You're holding out for someone who you really want to spend all your time with. Otherwise, there's no point to it.”
“And it's just dawned on me that I might be the author of my own story, but so is everyone else the author of their own stories, and sometimes, like now, there's no overlap.”
“The short story, I should point out, is perforce a labor of love in today's literary world; there's precious little economic incentive to write one...”
“To me, there's no point in talking about things that might have been.”