Everyone has something wrong. And for a while, her heart just sort of flat lined.

There was no real sense of life because she had nothing to contrast it with.

Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish.

Art never comes from happiness.

The truth is, every son raised by a single mom is pretty much born married. I don't know, but until your mom dies it seems like all the other women in your life can never be more than just your mistress.

All you can do is hope for a pattern to emerge, and sometimes it never does. Still, with a plan, you only get the best you can imagine. I'd always hoped for something better than that.

The damaged loves the damaged.