Love is like trying to wrestle an albino. It’s tough because they’re slippery and all lubed up with sunscreen.

The way I wrestle five-year-olds makes me think if I were ever attacked by a pack of midgets, I’d be OK.

Self-control is a divided battle in one body. The “self” produces desires that “you” must battle with and kick off. Two wrestlers in one body. Just imagine. It’s difficult, though rewarding!