As much as life can suck, it always beats the alternative.

We all use the future to escape the present.

People are such idiots. As if there's something wrong with being in love.

You see how fake it all is. It's not even hard enough to be made out of plastic. It's a paper town.

At some point, you just pull off the Band-Aid, and it hurts, but then it's over and you're relieved.

He loved the scratching of pencil against paper when he was focused: it meant something was happening.

The phrase booze and mischief left me worrying I'd stumbled into what my mother referred to as "the wrong crowd," but for the wrong crowd, they both seemed awfully smart.