Luckily, I always travel with a book, just in case I have to wait on line for Santa, or some such inconvenience.

Deep down, you see, I long to be arcane, esoteric. I would love to confound people with their own language.

Your humor is your compass and your shield. You can hone it into a weapon or you can pull its strands out to make your very own cotton-candy blanket. You can’t exist on a diet of humor alone, but you can’t exist on a diet without it, either.

If you let the world in, you open yourself up to the world. Even if the world doesn't know that you're there.

But I still has enough longing for that concept that I didn't want to dispel it completely. Meaning: I didn't want to tell Lily that I felt we'd all been duped by Plato and the idea of a soul mate. Just in case it turned out that she was mine.

I never know what you really want, if I can give it to you, or if I’m already too late.

It was like everyone suddenly knew what mattered. Money didn't matter. Politics didn't matter. Tabloid news didn't matter. No-compassion mattered. Calm mattered. Respect mattered. Did it really take something of this magnitude to make us realize this?