All of us are heaven-sent, and there was never meant to be only one.

Above our heads exists an infinity of unfathomable fantasiastics: and fields of future fireside fables trail close behind

I am here on Earth to express myself, and the many media of art are my magic carpets that allow me the freedom to do so.

I think I grew a grey watching you procrastinate.

Your music sounds better on the radio, for some reason. It's an amazing feeling. I hope it never goes away.

Surf is something I have been obsessed with since I was a child.

I think perhaps love thrives on unlikely circumstances and chance: life thrives on these principles, and is life not love? And love not life?