In the middle of L.A.'s sunny non-winter, I need to sit in a dark closet to feel right.

He looks at one of the pictures for a long time. Then he looks at me. "I'll keep you up here." He taps his temple. "Where you can't get lost.

Travelling's not something you're good at. It's something you do. Like breathing. You can't work too much at it, or it feels like work. You have to surrender yourself to the chaos. To the accidents.

That’s the thing you never expect about grieving, what a competition it is.

I understood all that in my head, but I still didn‟t believe it in my heart.

Life might take you down different roads. But each of you gets to decide which one to take.

I think everything is happening all the time, but if you don't put yourself in the path of it, you miss it. When you travel, you put yourself out there. It's not always great. Sometimes it's terrible. But other times ... [...] It's not so bad.