Let love go viral; let little else.

One TED talk — a million doors knock.

Reputations are now made and lost in 144 characters.

The world wide web — one post, a billion likes.

Whispered in inner rooms, shouted from the roof top of the Internet.

The online leer spreads the world wide web’s pandemic peeping plague.

Bile goes viral in just a short while.

Online lies metastasize.

Rumor is a plague; the web is a vector.

Shame is viral, instantly posted throughout the soul.

Trends dash, whims sprint, movements run, history plods.

Laughter is like life; viral then the knife.

Curvy and nervy turn men topsy turvy.

Arms and legs are war’s dark dregs.

Simple and pure confer di rigueur.

Watch then wait; switch then bait.

Love is dribs, then some drabs, a call for dibs, a plea for dabs.

To avoid crashes and fears, don’t use smoke and mirrors.

Heaven and hell terrorize the unwell.

Minds are open, minds are shut; love is “Not quite,” and “Yes, but!”

Time dilly-dallies down diurnal halls, then rushes willy-nilly out sidereal  doors.

Nick and pick; remit, acquit.

Oscar Wilde created drolleries and quipperies wherever he went; thankfully he left them with us when he went.

The happiness of every aspiring lover is determined by who they choose not to date.

Awkwardness is the beginning of love, humiliation follows shortly, after that love becomes terrifyingly comfortable.

We should always be laughing; that is the reason we should always be married.

We should always be smitten with someone which is why we should always spend time with small children.

Nothing can make one vow to be forever insincere as much as a moralist’s eminent rectitude.

No woman should forget anything; a good memory in a woman is the beginning of her power.

There is no temptation greater than the temptation to pretend we cannot resist temptation.

Love believes others will change; this is its chief defect.

A moment of honor can make an older woman feel nineteen again; thirty seconds of disrespect can make her feel one hundred.

There is no excess like success.

When good men are very few, then Revery will more than do.

The soul selects its own society — then ducks.

Success is sweetest in suppose, a loyal love, a longer nose.

Charge into the danger zone, a heated brain — zero at the bone.

Tell the truth — add a slant — make a beeline — end tangent.

It’s okay now and again to be seen without our Diadem.

Love is never dead if it be fed — and plainly said.

Measure sadness and surprise with anything but analytic eyes.

Madness makes a kind of sense; sense has a slightly unhinged bent.

We outgrow everything but love.

Some show off, some hide their powers — reclining shyly within flowers.

Emily will more than do if Eloquence be lost and bees be few.

Early to work and late to bed, makes a man stealthy, wealthy and dead.

God helps those who help others help themselves.

A Franklin well-spent is a happy event.

To err is human, to forgive divine, to multiply proverbs, completely sublime.

Dine with a ladle, sup with a shovel, expire in a castle.

Little strokes irritate great oaks.

Necessity strikes bad bargains — and inspires sweet solutions.

Failure has saved many from success. 

A full brain makes a dull swain.

Feast on hope; die hopeful.

Well ambled beats all scrambled.

Get a trade or a maid.

Too chaste makes waste.

Too much restraint and we will have no more hilarity at funerals.

Being proud of being prudent is a strain of attitudent.

Lack of restraint will land you in a nunnery, too much and you’ll wake in a bordello.

Corral your impulses in public, loose them in private — mind the difference.

Everything we touch we mar; the wise admire the flowers from afar.

Hold your fork or hold your pork.

Give us liberty, and then we’ll all need to get some rest.

A restriction with good diction is nothing more than predilection.

Restraint hears the complaint; license endures the sound of the horrific crash.

For world peace imprison your tongue, bomb your biases, vaporize your revenge.

We all pre-position ourselves; the question is before what object?

Hop on small prepositions; travel great time and space.

“In” has clout; “out” has the doubt.

Model yourself after prepositions — refuse to go it alone.

As the simplest preposition puzzles the foreigner, so the simplest moral choice puzzles the politician.

Head the phrase, rule the phase.

“Of” rules the self, “from” rules the crowd , “in” rules the universe.

“In” or “out” is rout or pout.

We speed andlang the lingo-path of yesterday.

Spatio-a-temporal is verbio-la-visceral.

The preposition which once was low is known now to control the show.

The French once gave us new prepositions; to thank them we gave them McDonalds.

We each best play the part of speech we are.

To click is a slick trick; it may not stick.

Assay your friends; strip mine your enemies.

Infatuation concocts a dopy distillate which vaporizes on contact with difficulty.

Chemistry is all teasing, timing and traiting.

To achieve equilibrium, invite a conflict.

Gentleness is a diluent; it waters down anger.

Hatred is distilled from selfishness; love is leached in sacrifice’s field.

Harshness quickly reaches a saturation point; graciousness is infinitely soluble.

Every mind has a valence, but every bond is a choice.

Beaker lust; distill trust.

Those who close their eyes are prey to those who don’t.

A smart phone is a tether; it can become a noose.

A reputation is fragile; it can be harmed in a flash.

To protect we surveil, yet by protection, we assail.

When a society turns on its whistle blowers, the ensuing silence is a whistle.

Surveilling is neither good nor bad but intention makes it so.

Bug a mug; spy a lie.

Too wary is scary; so is blissfully bleary.

Drones are watching from above, but they aren’t watching out of love.

Surveillance has a defect; it violates privacy to protect.

Surveillance is a mission, until it becomes voyeurism.

Our inalienable rights include life, encryption and the pursuit of privacy.

Self care begins with self-aware.

To recover do nothing — then everything.

To care for your self, love anyone.

For unconditional love, try a brine shrimp.

Steadfastly maintain a paralyzing self-pity; otherwise you might fall into thinking you must do something for things to improve.

Your psyche is a green sprout; your own advice is spring rain.

The empty soul finds a salve, ignoring what it doesn’t have.

Self-discoveries, self-discoveries line the slopes of our recoveries.

Thank your enemies; they teach you to take care of yourself.

Plug your drain with your brain.

It is our great foolishness to try to change the world and leave ourselves the same.

When the world gives you the cold shoulder drape yourself with the warmth of your own affection.

One thing is certain to lie ahead — change.

Change is the great exchange, familiar past for future strange.

The mind packs a range for change, beyond that lies adamantine.

Urgency accelerates; excitement floors it.

Change is strange until our thoughts are rearranged.

Keep your change in a jar; but the transformation you gain upon impact, spend that.

Put change in pockets; permanencies display in plain sight.

Change-agents must have patience.

Interpretation is the blunt edge of resistance to the cutting edge of change.

To change is sane; stuck is mental muck.

Move often, toward freedom.

To make the best technology, a borrower and a lender be.

Fan the fire forging the finest edge.

Invent the cutting-edge; waiting wallet wedge.

High-tech’s cutting edge is followed by a trailing lawsuit.

A cutting-edge may be dulled by an adamantine tradition.

A cutting-edge, a split-up world.

The cutting-edge is a wedge; the rich run pitch, the poor crave more.

The latest is not the greatest — tomorrow.

Change is a cutting edge; wear eye protection.

The edge that thrills also kills.

The cutting-edge that takes a stash soon ends up in the trash.

Our passwords are fig leaves; they cover our modern modesties.

A date is a hack; a marriage is an identity theft.

We arrange our smiles, pad our profiles.

Let alone takes the power of a throne.

The privilege of privacy savors one society.

Everyone is a privacy we judge by what we do not know.

A face is a moat: a resume is a castle wall.

Protect your soul; hack your mind.

Hone the edge of your alone; zone your own precious unknown.

Convenience does business using the currency of privacy.

The difference between privacy and duplicity is intention.

What does society gain if it privatizes the whole world and loses its collective soul?

Notoriety sells its privacy to buy its own celebrity.

Our deepest privacies are filed under our deepest dishonesties.

The mind is a madhouse; it can be quieted by a TV.

A great mind has a will; a weak mind has a wish.

There is no shame in a mind that wears out, only in one that wears in.

A good marriage is of two minds and one heart.

There are no empty minds to fill, only full minds to unpack, sort and restock.

The mind is malleable, the soul assailable.

Eat your peas, mind your cues; swallow your retorts, obey your “I do’s.”

A foolish mind retains the inconsistency of a small hobgoblin.

Grief teaches the mind to let go, joy to hang on.

The mind’s “I” guides the mind’s “Why?”

We cut the fabric of the mind along the bias that we find.

The average mind speaks of “was,” the good mind of “will be,” the great mind of “is.”

To be patient is to love yourself.

Humility is the mother of patience; reason is her father.

Patience has a measured cadence.

What wonder ever was but by a wait.

Cruelty is the bully child of frustration, but compassion begets patience.

Too much patience is a sin.

Face every injustice with impatience.

Bear the exigencies of crisis with patience; needless suffering, meet it with extreme irritabilty.

Impatience is the virtue of visionaries.

Passion waits well when it knows it will win.

Patience is medicine; hurry assassinates us.

Invest in stories; dump theories.

The all-mighty clam siphons vision’s shazam.

The love of good is the tree top of all money.

Money is social — collaborative, collective and hyper-betrothal.

Your next investment is your next donation.

Traffic in stocks; pillage Fort Knox.

Money is magic, poverty tragic, hatred of humans abyssopelagic.

Money has influence — so does influenza.

Money and morality remember mortality.

A stellar portfolio, no generosity, a mediocre life.

Money can’t buy you love, but it can lease you a lovely arrogance.

The rich save; the poor slave; all crave.

Life refines even the least inclined.

The iron inclined are least refined.

Difficulty refines — unless it wrecks.

The divinest irony runs the soul’s refinery.

Bookish wit is gold refined, but household wit is dross sublime.

A home is a refinery — unless it’s a whinery.

Anxiety’s society disrefines us quietly.

What one refines a dozen more declines.

Fool, recline; wise, refine.

Only love affinates ambition.

If people weren’t so bored then bad news wouldn’t be so popular.

It takes fate, or it takes hate, to make the evening news of late.

The best life is found in being so busy making news that you don’t have time to read it.

The scoop’s a dupe, the piece a fleece and yet the truth is told.

Good anchors report with bedrock integrity, the worst drag the mucky bottom for celebrity.

Soldiers lead reporters to battle — rattle, prattle, chattel, cattle.

News is what we are told; interpretation is what we tell ourselves.

News reporters respect not tombs; they lug all guts into all living rooms.

The world is 186,000 events per second; a reporter is a butterfly net.

As the divorcee packs a rant so the reporter packs a slant.

What’s trending; it’s bending.

News is expensive, but the truth will cost you your life.

No news isn’t good news; it’s terrifying!

The best show biz of life is “is!”

“Is” is fast when life’s a blast.

Time rips; “is” slips.

“Is” is fizz.

We live in is and die of was.

Was is!

Was is — until we decide it isn’t.

Determine “will be;” annihilate “is.”

“Was” and “will-be” are mostly scree, but “am” and “is” are more trusty.

We scheme, parade and dominate, to earn the world’s salute, but “was” and “is” and “will be so” will one day make us moot.

We stop to start to hope to see.

The telescope gave our eyes hope; the microscope made them well.

Wise eyes will not despise weak cries.

Eyes sniff; ears taste; skin gazes and still the heart is empty.

Our deepest “Why’s?” slip out the back doors of our aging eyes.

Eyes have lied, lips have ripped, the tongue has stung, and yet the heart still has its hopes.

To go totally blind, open your eyes; to heal, close them.

Seeing is believing; not seeing is believing squared.

The eyes blink; the heart grows steady.

The truth begins within the eyes least damaged by the din.