What is real is always worth it.

We strive for beauty and balance, the sensual over the sentimental.

Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched.

Kindness was the last thing she needed. She had to stay in the icy place, the numb place, and their warmth threatened to melt her just when she needed the cold.

No matter where I was, my compass pointed west. I would always know what time it was in California.

Love's an illusion. It's a dream you wake up from with an enormous hangover and net credit debt. I'd rather have cash.

Love could never bloom in a concrete block room.