Around mile 20 I was feeling so good, I wanted to kiss everyone.

Its been a long time coming but now the snow is gone

The real desk isn't one with four legs and a filing cabinet. It's the space of time that you stake out every day and the will with which you defend it.

Every heart is a package tangled up in knots someone else tied.

Mud and water and the stumps of trees. In every direction that was all there was. Bodies fell, but the trees died standing up.

Fear only has as much power as we give it space.

I'm singing for the love of it/Have mercy on the man who sings to be adored.