What do your parents know, about surviving?

For Beatrice, when we met, my life began. Soon afterwards, yours ended.

Fetching objects for people who are too lazy to fetch them for themselves is never a pleasant task, particularly when the people are insulting you.

Love can smack you like a seagull, and pour all over your feet like junk mail.

I do think of emotions as being on a circular path, so you can feel terrible and terrible and terrible, and then all of a sudden it becomes quite funny.

It seems to me that oftentimes in young relationships once there's a problem of some significance then it's almost like they're both racing for the dumper buzzer.

Just because you don't understand it doesn't mean it isn't so.