She lay silent for a billion years, and then one day she awoke. 'We thought you were dead', said those who survived.

He is a coward, and so he puts his grievances into his songs. Therefore each of his songs is, in effect, a letter to the editor of the local newspaper, and just as trivial.

He is not my friend, but I envy him. I wish I could share his garden with him, and his teapot, and his books. He may complain, but he must be the happiest man on earth.

On the left, there is inaction. On the right, there is action. In the middle, there is bureaucracy.

She wanted to meet her dream lover - she was so fascinated with him. She left a message under his door. Soon, he responded, but in disguise. If she rejects him, there is no damage done. If she responds, trouble of an interesting sort will ensue.