When autumn comes, it doesn't ask. It just walks in, where it left you last. And you never know, when it starts; until there's fog inside the glass around your summer heart.

I've never been a bad boy.

Very few things in life are worthy of the kind of emotional distress we put ourselves through.

I have these accidents, these mistakes, these self-inflicted wounds, and then I tear my head to shreds about it for days.

You should have a picture of yourself as a kid in your home so that you remember where you came from.

They say stay in the lines, but there's always something better on the other side.

I'm a mess of unfinished thoughts.