The manager once called me the 'best freak' in his stable, and, sad as it sounds, I took pride in that. When you are an outcast, even a tossed stone can be cherished.

I believe the biggest themes of life are put into the best focus when held up against the very sharp light of mortality.

A man who can take anything will find most things unsatisfying. And a man without memories is just a shell.

There are many things in my life that I wish I could take back. Many moments I would recast.

Kids chase the love that eludes them, and for me, that was my father's love. He kept it tucked away, like papers in a briefcase. And I kept trying to get in there.

As long as we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away.

Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.