Dreams are only dreams until you wake up and make them real.

People don't make good Anchors, though, Craig. They change.

I found myself jealous of the people who wrote the books. They were dead and they were still taking up my time. Who did they think they were?

I should be a success and I'm not and other people- younger people- are. Younger people than me are on TV and getting their lives in order. I'm still a nobody. When am I going to not be a nobody?

I can't eat and I can't sleep. I'm not doing well in terms of being a functional human, you know?

But some people have to get lucky just to live. And I never knew I could make anybody lucky.

So why am I depressed? That's the million-dollar question, baby, the Tootsie Roll question; not even the owl knows the answer to that one. I don't know either. All I know is the chronology.