You didn’t understand what he was saying, until he kissed you. It was a kiss of such complicity, of such uncomplicated sympathy, that you felt for the first time not alone in your suffering.

I'll tell you this, lad: A tattoo says more of a fellow looking at it than it can do of the man who's got it on his back.

People went through life like well handled jugs, collecting chips and scrapes and stains from wear and tear, from holding and pouring life.

The man had added to his body in a way that was brave and timeless and beyond adornment.

Of all the conditions we experience, solitude is perhaps the most misunderstood.

Those partial to drink were hiding faults and dishonesty. They were sloppy souls, even the ones with pleasant manners and fine noses.

You didn’t understand what he was saying, until he kissed you. It was a kiss of such complicity, of such uncomplicated sympathy, that you felt for the first time not alone in your suffering.