It's curious the way we get nostalgic for some hoped-for thing that never happened, as if something that never happened were in the past.

God sends the dawn that we might see the might-have-beens that still might be.

No matter what you do in life, a part of you still sits at a curbside, still hearing the drumbeat of a distant parade, still waiting for it to turn the corner.

If I choose abstraction over reality, it is because I consider it the lesser chaos.

For lack of an occasional expression of love, a relationship strong at the seams can wear thin in the middle.

A toast once heard: "To my big sister, who never found her second Easter egg until I'd found my first."

If an artist has talent, he needs no other critic.