‎Sometimes I feel like when someone asks me if I believe in God, it's like a blind person asking if I'm black, so that they can put me in the right category.

I also live in the present, due to the constraints of the space-time continuum.

We are all differently broken, semi-functional, rusted out love machines

I forgot how to throw a boomerang, but then it came back to me.

John Green is a very handsome, intelligent, and wise man. He smells really weird though.

I need Harry Potter like a grindylow needs water.

I'm also pretty impressive when I'm shoving the neck of a lute into someone's chest cavity.