What is it about childhood that never lets you go, even when you're so wrecked it's hard to believe you ever were a child?

Why are we embarassed by silence? What comfort do we find in all the noise?

Sometimes, when you are not getting the love you want, giving makes you think you will.

Something is always happening somewhere.

If you hold back on the emotions--if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them--you can never get to being detached, you're too busy being afraid.

I think we've created a system here where only the lifelong politicians, who are used to this kind of life in the spotlight and don't care, or people who have egos along the lines of Donald Trump - who just don't care what people say about them - they're the only people who are ever going to run because nobody wants their life dissected as meanly and as randomly as our media has come to do with anybody who runs for office.

I think what you notice most when you haven’t been home in a while is how much the trees have grown around your memories.