Sunday Squibs

I lock my faults behind what I thought was an iron door, which turns out to be a ratty old shower curtain.

"Write what you know." This advice results in a heap of novels about struggling writers.

Does a series of small accidents inoculate a person from a major crackup? Probably not, but thinking it does consoles the klutz.

The whine of the vacuum cleaner is white noise to those with OCD.

As a little yeast leavens the whole loaf, so a little tyrant can flatten a whole democracy.

Without others, we run out of fuel and there we sit. But the hermit, lucky devil, has a tiger in his tank.

Would you forfeit your job to take down an unfit leader? That's Congress's job, and its basic dilemma.

Jesus said not to call our brother a fool. Use parables instead: "There was once a king..."

Like flies hanging in the Web, we shake. A tasty meal for the host we'll make.

Sweet 16, Elite Eight, Final Four, and since it's a dance, the Tu-Two.

I ignore one star reviews. Disgruntled souls who give even God three and a half stars.

If you want a thing to work the first time, read the instructions. If you want to know how it really works, screw it up a few times.