Bad taste creates many more millionaires than good taste.

sometimes I hate you," she said.

To not to have entirely wasted one’s life seems to be a worthy accomplishment, if only for myself.

A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.

The courage it took to get out of bed each morning to face the same things over and over was enormous.

There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out.

All a guy needed was a chance. Somebody was alway controlling who got a chance and who didn't.