My mother was an authority on pig sties. This is the worst looking pigsty I have ever seen in my life, and I want it cleaned up right now.
I recently turned fifty, which is young for a tree, mid-life for an elephant, and ancient for a quarter-miler, whose son now says, "Dad, I just can't run the quarter with you anymore, unless I bring something to read."
Fatherhood is asking your son to make up a name rather than tell anybody who he is.
When my son was murdered people asked me how I felt about God and what had happened to my son. I said "no, you can't go there. You have to understand that there is a devil and he works 24/7. Whoever murdered our son was with the devil."
