Memory is like fiction; or else it's fiction that's like memory.
Let your body work until it is spent, but keep your mind for yourself.
I’m just kinda tired. Like a monkey in the rain.
If you think about it, an unfair society is a society that makes it possible for you to exploit your abilities to the limit.
If you think God’s there, He is. If you don’t, He isn’t. And if that’s what God’s like, I wouldn’t worry about it.
If you can't understand it without an explanation, you can't understand it with an explanation.
I'm tired of living unable to love anyone. I don't have a single friend - not one. And, worst of all, I can't even love myself. Why is that? Why can't I love myself? It's because I can't love anyone e...
I'm always tripped up by the eternal who am I?
I wasn't particularly afraid of death itself. As Shakespeare said, die this year and you don't have to die the next.
I want to write about people who dream and wait for the night to end, who long for the light so they can hold the ones they love.
I spend more time being confused than not, I answered.
I move, therefore I am.
I just put my heart into it. That's the difference. It's a question of attitude. If you really work at something, you can do it, up to a point. If you really work at being happy, you can do it, up to...
I have a million things to talk to you about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning.
I go out on the porch and gaze up at the stars twinkling above, the random scattering of millions of stars. Even in a planetarium you wouldn't find as many. Some of them really look big and distinct,...
I don’t know what it means to live.
He sometimes wondered if she had become involved with him just so that she could cry in someone's arms. Maybe she can't cry alone, and that's why she needs me.
Forgive me for stating the obvious, but the world is made up of all kinds of people.
For example, the wind has its reasons. We just don't notice as we go about our lives. But then, at some point, we are made to notice. The wind envelops you with a certain purpose in mind, and it rocks...
For a while is a phrase whose length can't be measured.At least by the person who's waiting.