Quitting is not only an option, it may be the best option.

To become a successful starter, one must master the art of being a quitter.

There is an art to quitting; nuanced rationales, precision door slamming.

We give in — at the end of every loss and win.

Sticking with the same thing is easy; finally quitting is hard work.

Quit, go to bed; get up, move ahead.

Every ending is a beginning.

Quit infrequently; give up inconsistently.

Trash old foods, feuds and tudes; keep old dudes.

Enemies are like books; best not to finish them all off.

Quitting often includes some unfitting spitting.

I believe in word magic — the witty, ironic and super sarcastic.

Making something substantial disappear is the magic trick the brave do everyday.

A lie is a slight of hand, it slips the truth up a verbal sleeve.

Proverbs are magic — the high brow, the mid-wow, the pseudopelagic.

Wonder gave birth to magic — and the ecstatic.

Necromancy is chancy — try math.

There is no augury, only trickery or truthery.

Magic is the fanciful mental furniture of romantic girls and desparate old men.

We want to believe in magic, but it’s mostly just good luck or tragic.

As the scarf keeps coming from the hat, so memories keep unraveling from the soul.

Magic deception, power perception, transformation requires a solid connection.

Faith isn’t believing that God will pull a rabbit out of a hat; it is putting on your hat and going rabbit hunting.

Amazing is your presence — after your absence.

The cosmo is boffo ergo Io and Pluto.

Humans have an astonishing potential for a profound ordinariness.

Lies are predictable and boring: it’s honesty that is astonishing.

Normal is amazing; this is known by the very sick after they recover.

The stunning twin wonders of the body — its bright eyes.

Amazing, fantastic; realistic, scholastic.

The cosmos is amazing, but the simple conveniences of home, these are truly astonishing.

Only rarely do we glimpse the extraordinary, a moment of peace, a soul quieted by love.

It is astonishing how much credit a person is capable of taking for something they didn’t accomplish.

Now is an awareness we discover just as it is disappearing.

Now is time’s wave breaking.

“Now!” is the one order that can never be obeyed.

The wise live in the now, but can’t tell how.

Back then leaks, right now tweaks, will be sneaks.

Do right now what you were afraid to do one second ago.

Now is the second of salvation.

If not now who, when, what and how?

Now is the most powerful moment on the planet.

Dream, hope, run, wow; jump, fly, soar — now.

Wise nows plan future wows.

A well-placed excuse can avoid a completely wasted hour.

Calendars protect us  — they make excellent excuses.

A married man with no excuse is like a soldier with no body armor.

A good excuse can make a superb ruse.

The third excuse is self-abuse.

It is a kind of self-preservation to excuse our own mistakes; it is espionage and treason to condemn others for theirs.

Accusing our kin doesn’t excuse our own sin.

We are energized by other’s errors — and our own excuses.

We confess to the lesser to excuse the greater.

We play only deuces by means of excuses.

A poor excuse makes a perfect noose.

Abuse has no excuse.

Danger lies in condemning others while excusing oneself.

What protects also destroys.

Danger is being a stranger; it is also in acting like one.

Danger lies in not knowing who you are.

It takes a long story to create a short fuse.

Measure three times, check twice, jump once.

Love dangerously; adore others fiercely.

Fashion a short sword out of the truth; stab your fears in the guts — twist.

Ignorance jumps off the edge of the world alone; knowledge flies toward the center of the universe with a team.

To be dangerously unhappy compare what you have with what you can’t afford.

Live dangerously; ignore God; resolutely go it alone.

To ensure massive destruction, form massive armies, provide them with powerful and massive weapons, bring them near each other.

To make a safe family marry a plant — raise butterflies.

I can feel completely safe in any place in which I am unaware of danger.

Stop, look and chicken.

Every attempt to create a totally safe place will result in a prison.

Love yourself; protect your neighbors.

Safety is made out of love — motes, thick walls and hot pitch.

A safe day is found close to people who are safe at night.

Safety is the unknown, hiked carefully.

The most frightening sound in the world is the human voice: it is also the safest.

Invite a needed conflict; ensure everyone’s safety.

Protect yourself — forgive.

Love is safety.

Silence is loud.

A short silence can see a long distance.

Asking questions points the way to quietness.

All food should be honored with silence — for chewing.

Our outer quiet hides our inner riot.

Silence won’t end violence.

Authority demands silence; love allows it.

Silence is a type of family violence.

Silence is an indicator of compliance, defiance, reliance — and genius.

Silence can train a good ear and craft a skilled tongue.

Utterances silence what most needs to be said.

As a torrential rain quiets a tortured heart, so a roaring sea calms a clamorous soul.

Mystery makes us quiet at last.

Smooth is underused.

Stylish doesn’t require a hat — just a curl, cut, spike or rat.

Cultivated clauses are surrounded by suave pauses.

A hat and chain and you’re urbane.

Provincials hold to the essentials; cosmopolitans add a few tangentials.

Urbanity is just the fancy cover for humanity.

The provincial man has but one house; the world traveler is at home on every route.

Style is the trifle that adorns — and scorns.

No elite beings — just humble humanity.

Every soul is sophisticated — a veritable polis to other minds, a cosmos to other psyches.

With everyday beseechery we conjure English history.

Sheep and mutton, hook and button, English is the language glutton.

Some people take in kids; English takes in words.

Our English thesaurus is a monstrosity; it has given intemperate, unrestrained and inauspicious birth to effusiveness, loquacity, prolixity, wordiness, redundancy and verbosity.

Flail, flap, flicker, flee — word cousins are a mystery.

Cacoepy’s orthoepy intrinsically is uppity.

The winsome tongue has lost ugsome.

The OED has OCD.

To speak our language is innate, uttered without the slightest wait.

English began with a kinsman; it will end when their isn’t one.

Meetings shape reality; a lack of meetings and reality shapes us.

A car needs a driver; a meeting needs a little kaiser.

Poor proposals; messy meetings.

Invite the conflict; save the organization.

Poor meetings cause stress; stress causes more meetings.

What dies in a meeting lives on in a heart.

Organizations are dominated by calendars; scheduled — held.

What isn’t shouted at the meeting will be whispered in the ear.

Decrees hide in discussions, depotism in votes.

The group completes the individual.

The agenda isn’t in the email, it’s within each person at the meeting.

We hold fairs to remind us of who we are.

Fairs exist to give out ribbons — and take up cash.

At the fair pigs are named after politicians; this is demeaning to the pigs.

Blue ribbons define fairs — and ordinariness.

The craftsman and the novice both appear at the fair; they alone know that they are the same person.

The lama shaved at the fair is not diminished, neither is the world when divested of superiority.

The fine woodwork at the fair and a person turned from harmful ways — no price tag, inestimable value.

Young girls take their baby goats to the fair, so the world retains some innocence.

Hawksters require gawksters.

Fairs are for eating fun food — deep fried coffee, baked ice cream.

Fairs were created to bore animals, excite children and tire adults.

Anonymity installs humility.

Do what will make you famous with the desire to remain obscure.

It is good to aspire to renown — better not to be found.

Our anonymity offers us the option of cultivating only one soul.

Lovelies, hide; God only knows what they will do with you.

Anonymity is the gift of divinity.

Shopping alone is the great privilege of the unknown.

Celebrity becomes a vamp; anonymity becomes a rant.

Anonymity is the co-author of creativity.

Anonymity — it’s the soul virginity.

Spiders are revealed by their webs, harm by tangled minds.

Fame is unnerving; obscurity — completely so.

To ensure everyone else’s safety, make peace with your self.

When justice and mercy kiss, peace appears.

No peace in killing, only in being killed.

Peace is a garden, a quiet hour — no violence within.

Peace loves the light; agitation hides in the dark and gnaws on secrets.

Tranquility — it lacketh durability.

Peace isn’t from things being okay; it’s from being okay with things.

Dominate others; this will tick them off, upset you, and ensure your downfall.

Turmoil’s affinity is with beginnings and endings; peace thrives in middle ground.

To achieve peace, kill Napoleon — within.

Those who desire war will rest in peace.

Wage war, using peace.

Hope for everything; celebrate at least one thing.

Disappointment — suck it up; choke it down; spit it out; stomp it.

Setbacks prevalent; advances equivalent.

Re-anoint the young who disappoint.

Integrity’s loss makes disappointment the boss.

Parents give, the children take — disappointment is at stake.

People let you down; flies hang around.

End disappointments, keep your appointments.

The foiled become cynics by the quitting gimmick.

The disappointed cry contains another try.

Mold has saved more lives than gold.

The discovery of gold has kept many people poor.

A man will cross mountains and rivers for a fleck of gold, but not sit once for nuggets of wisdom.

God is gold; pan, sluice, sift — behold.

The sun weeps and waters run, but we don’t know where gold is from.

In the sandbars of the soul settles love’s pure gold.

Love like placer gold, collects and rests in friendships old.

The gold worn off the wedding ring may be found glittering in the eyes of the old lover.

Gold is a lovely scarcity; the same is true of charity.

Gold can’t cure a cold nor keep the world from getting old.

The period is to be thanked — for silence.

A pause is a sun, a comma is a shadow.

The well-placed comma removes all the trauma, or adds some drama.

Dance, laugh, yell, anoint — celebrate the screaming point!

Reading is guessing and testing, punctuation pausing and resting.

The colon wears a coat and tie: “Hello, enumeration,” never, “Hi.”

The slammer — a verbal hammer!

The apostrophe is Procrustean; it owns, shortens, and relengthens.

There will always be more to be said; the semicolon will never be dead.

The dash is brash.

There are no stupid question marks; only stupid exclamation points!

The written word is inadequate to convey the human voice; our only hope is to someday reinvent punctuation.

Life is superb lived as a verb.

Faith without verbs is dead.

Look before you leap; verb before you speak.

Give a noun a  tumbler shot, it will verb a lot.

The road to heaven is paved with good verbs.

We shift, remake, convert our words; Google is now a famous verb.

Verbs the clock observe.

We live by the interrogative and die by the imperative.

Verbs are the adrenaline of good speeches.

Think, exist and move with verve; it is fun to verb, verb, verb, verb, verb.

A writer may be judged by the quality of his verbs.

Good writers don’t syntax disturb, they just verb and verb and verb.

Long words clumsily tromp and maladroitly clomp; short ones romp and stomp.

Actions are louder, words depend on the shouter.

Twisted words come from tangled thoughts.

“In a word …” is never one word.

A play on words is a lot of work.

One word is worth a thousand vacation pictures.

Weigh words and diet, wax simple and quiet.

Keep your words close and your spouse’s words closer.

Words, words, the phonic fruit, the more you learn, the more you toot.

There’s a way with words, and then there are words that have their way.

There is no final word, only a finalized mind.

To fix a fix kibitz — don’t blitz.

Carry on — by carrying on!

Go off; calm down — hurry back.

Resigned? Resign!

Make custom all custom.

Dust off your brain; dust on what’s sane.

Life is all downhill from here — “Oh, yea!” and “Oh dear!”

Do not refrain from love’s refrain.

Wise oversight expects oversights.

‘It’s all over!” is all over the place.

In the middle of every gorgeous peach —  is a pit — deep.