We Americans are hard on almost everything. We are hard on our vehicles, our marriages and our heroes. Mostly, however, we are hard on ourselves.

I have come to regard November as the older, harder man's October. I appreciate the early darkness and cooler temperatures. It puts my mind in a different place than October. It is a month for a quieter, slightly more subdued celebration of summer's death as winter tightens its grip.

I just want to be able to stand up straight for a little while before I get cut down.

I know you’ll never love me but maybe you’ll stay for awhile.

We are occupants. No one has any lasting purchase on life or on the planet.

When people make my country look bad, I can't stand it.

I thought I was gonna be in the minimum-wage working world all my life.