How could you live each day knowing that you were simply whiling away the days until your own death?

"What if I like watching television? What if I don't want to do much else other than read a book?"... "What if I'm tired when I get home? What if I don't fill my days with frenetic activity?" "But one day you might wish you had."

Sometimes, Clark, you are pretty much the only thing that makes me want to get up in the morning.

I will never, ever regret the things I've done. Because most days, all you have are places in your memory that you can go to.

Nobody fights you like your own sister; nobody else knows the most vulnerable parts of you and will aim for them without mercy.

The thing about being catapulted into a whole new life--or at least, shoved up so hard against someone else's life that you might as well have your face pressed against their window--is that it forces you to rethink your idea of who you are. Or how you might seem to other people.

But don't blame me for the food. My wife knows a hundred and one ways to incinerate a cow, and as far as I can tell she's still experimenting.