So much about Trump is... mysterious and slippery. Everything in his business record, you had to ask him for the details. He made himself the only source. He would either not tell you, or he was often an unreliable narrator about his own life.
Life's too slippery for books, Clarice; anger appears as lust, lupus presents as hives.
I have the backbone of an eel.
I can't dance on ice, because I'm like Bambi on ice.
As failures go, attempting to recall the past is like claiming to grasp the meaning of existence. Both make one feel like a baby clutching at a basketball: one's palms keep sliding off.
A politician is like quicksilver: if you try to put your finger on him, you find nothing under it.
The trouble with talking about irony is, it's such a slippery thing that the second you start talking about it, you're a better example of it than you are an analyst.
The crookedness of the serpent is still straight enough to slide through the snake hole.
