I know a girl made of memories and phrases, lives her whole life in chapters and phases.

I've done a bit of smuggling, I've run my share of grass. I made enough money to buy Miami, but I piss it away so fast.

When reality looks too ugly, fantasize.

We are the people our parents warned us about.

We're just recycled history machines, cavemen in faded blue jeans.

My mother insisted that her children read.

There's damsels in distress out there, and we got all this beer.