I think that if you can roast a chicken, you can get whatever you want out of a woman.

He looks at you like you're someone he's never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is, you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a pathetic mess, unrecognizable even to your own eyes.

I want God to play in my bloodstream the way sunlight amuses itself on the water.

I would like to spend the rest of my days in a place so silent–and working at a pace so slow–that I would be able to hear myself living.

It is merely this world that is chaotic, bringing changes to us all that nobody could have anticipated.

When it comes to women, get your life together first. Put on your own oxygen mask first. Figure out who you are. Mature. And then go find somebody to share that life with.

The best we can do then, in response to our incomprehensible and dangerous world, is to practice holding equilibrium internally - no matter what insanity is transpiring out there.