Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.
I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh my God, it even has a watermark!
I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I'll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now.
Only don't tell me you're innocent. Because it insults my intelligence and makes me very angry.
In Sicily, women are more dangerous than shotguns.
I don't want to get you drunk, but, ah, that's a very fine Chardonnay you're not drinking.