Even good hearts know how to turn bad touch and genocide into clichés just to make room for more comfort.

But I still show up for gentleman practice in the company of lead dancers, hoping their grace will get stuck in my shoes.

I'm ready to kill something. I'll probably only get as far as my brain cells, but I am going to kill them.

You are the home I point to that lives in my chest.

We were never tragedies. We were emergencies. You go ahead, call 9-1-1. Tell them I'm havin' a fantastic time.

How honest is it that we drink until we are dehydrated?

The best songs are the ones about Georgia, even though I've never been there. It's the only place I still believe in Jesus.