The question, I've come to think, is not what inspires one to change, but what inspires one to remain changed.

I don't think that there are any limits to how excellent we could make life seem.

Let love write on you for awhile.

I realized that your mother couldn't see the emptiness, she couldn't see anything...All of the words I'd written to her over all of those years, had I never said anything to hear at all?

I regret how much I believed in the future.

But what she was really trying to say was this: I like music better than anything in the world, after you.

I made up my mind that nothing,, nothing was going to stop me Not even me.