Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.

Enemies will kill you with a knife in the back. Friends will kill you with kindness. Either way you're dead.

If Jesus was a bartender, He would still only be half as cool as Carlos.

I seldom feel trapped by my world. Setting up rules and restrictions is part of the process. It gives your world shape. I always look at these things like haiku: you have to work within certain parameters, but within them, you’re completely free.

Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.

I'm steel-toed boots in a ballet-slipper world.

In this life, no matter what anyone promises you, what allegiances of love or fealty they swear or what gods they pray to, you will never have more than what you have at this moment.