Thoughts are king, Trixie, king!

And when Paul dove to embrace me, the look on his face was one of absolute, perfect joy—the kind of joy that can't be reproached, stolen, or marred—the kind that only the innocent or the ignorant are capable of experiencing.

That's why you have to save the dying man. Because you want him around to keep saving you.

Everyone feels that void. Everyone who has the balls to look inside themselves, anyway. It's what life's all about.. A search.

The question is one of faith. Faith in my talent. Faith in my decisions. And faith in the idea that the truth, even if it can’t pay my bills, can still set me free.

I'd be a sucker for a guy who wrote me a song,” I said. “Like Beth or Rosanna or Sara. Or Sharona. Is that too much to ask? To be somebody's Sharona?

If you want me you're going to have to come and get me.