Don't insult my mother. I am NOT rescuing you, I'm bringing you along as emergency food rations. To call you stupid would be an insult to stupid people, I've known sheep who could outwit you. I also dropped some litter off Skinner's balcony. I'll add it to the list of charges against you.
Death is nothing more than the result of cellular boredom.
I became prematurely aware of life's existential isolation, in an alternate universe I probably became a great poet. So to put it bluntly I posses the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. I want to kill you. You're just saying that. The little bastard.