Love is a horse with a broken leg trying to stand while 45,000 people watch.
I read my books at night, like that, under the quilt with the overheated reading lamp. Reading all those good lines while suffocating. It was magic.
Life's as kind as you let it be.
That's the way it ends. The thin edge of the wedge.
A day of minor profit or prophet led to a night of drunkenness.
Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?