Conan was building towers out of blocks, when they all fell down.
Conan: "Ah, man! I was going to stabilize it, but I didn't do it yet. I'll build another one and make it more stable."
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Conan was grabbing at specks of dust floating through the air. When I asked him what he was doing, he responded, "I am catching dust particles so they don't get stuck in my skull."
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Cuddling with me at night: "Mom, don't squeeze me too tight. I'm fragile."
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He is certainly on his way to having a large vocabulary.