I knew it wasn't too important, but it made me sad anyway.
An artist's only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else's.
How old are you? I asked her. "Old enough to know better." she said.
In every school I've gone to, all the athletic bastards stick together.
I told her I loved her and all. It was a lie, of course, but the thing is, I meant it when I said it. I'm crazy. I swear to God I am.
And I have one of those very loud, stupid laughs. I mean if I ever sat behind myself in a movie or something, I'd probably lean over and tell myself to please shut up.