Stop thinking about the landing, because it's all about falling.

Barnacles on the container ship of consciousness.

It is worth it to leave behing my minor life for grander maybes.

In the end, what you do isn't going to be nearly as interesting or important as who you do it with.

"And we'll call you... hmmm. Pudge." "Huh?" "Pudge," the Colonel said. "Because you're skinny. It's called irony, Pudge. Heard of it? Now, let's go get some cigarettes and start this year off right."

You could hold me and I could hold you. And it would be so peaceful. Completely peaceful. Like the feeling of sleep, but awake in it together.

How strange and how lovely it is to be anything at all.