Perhaps the less we have, the more we are required to brag.

We're delighted at the success, but honestly not surprised at Jake's popularity. He makes you feel good.

Popularity, I have always thought, may aptly be compared to a coquette—the more you woo her, the more apt is she to elude your embrace.

A psychiatrist once told me early in treatment, “Stop trying to make me like you,” and what a sobering and welcome smack in the face that statement was. Yet somehow, every day of my life is still a campaign for popularity, or better yet, a crowded funeral.

What do the Texans say? All hat, no cattle.

I'm not sayin' she's a bragger, but if you've been to Paradise, she's got a season ticket.