Maybe that's why people take pictures of themselves, to avoid being described.

I realize that we all think we might be terrible people. But we only reveal this before we ask someone to love us. It is a kind of undressing.

It would require constant vigilance to not replace each person with my own fictional version of them.

The job of the artist is to point at things.

If you were wise enough to know that this life would consist mostly of letting go of things you wanted, then why not get good at the letting go, rather than the trying to have?

Sometimes I lie in bed trying to decide which of my friends I truly care about, and I always come to the same conclusion: none of them. I thought these were just my starter friends and the real ones would come along later. But no. These are my real friends.

But, like ivy, we grow where there is room for us.