We are dreamers. We worship love, we hope against hope and toss practicality out the window.

This is how your heart gets snagged, like a balloon on a barbed-wire fence, this is where pieces of you get torn away.

What are you looking at?” she asks. What am I looking at? My future wife? The mother of my children? The person I was put on this earth to find? Yes.

I'm a bit of a tease. I'd make out with a lot of people but not go beyond that.

dont let anyone tell you what you are ever- that way you never run the danger of becoming anything but what you believe in.

(before playing Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet) I couldn't really come up with a short way to sum up this song, but I was watching the movie 'Adaptation' the other day and this sort of sums it up in my head. You are not who loves you. You are who you love. Always remember that.

That’s the problem with all of this. No matter how hard I try, I can’t make it perfect. I can’t keep it in a bottle, can’t ignore reality. Chemicals are involved, the kind scientists try to synthesize and put into pill form, and they’re making tremendous advances every day. They’re winning the war against love. It’s probably inevitable now. There are only two ways to see the world: either no one and nothing is connected to anything, or we are all a random series of carbon molecules connected to each other. Tell me if there’s room for love in either of those scenarios.