He just waited until I stopped talking and said, 'Jesus, kid, you're almost a detective. All you need now is a gun, a gut, and three ex-wives. So what's your theory?
We'd failed, maybe, but some mysteries aren't meant to be solved.
I'd rather wonder than get answers I couldn't live with.
Keys show up when you reconcile yourself to the bus.
No matter how hard you kick, no matter how high you get, you can't go all the way around.
I've never known before what it feels like to want someone - not to want to hook up with them or whatever, but to want them, to want them. And now I do. So maybe I do believe in epiphanies.