At some point the body offers only disappointment.

...WHAT DID YOU DO TODAY...that counts?...that carries meaning?...that made the day worthwhile?...what will you do tomorrow?

And then ... perhaps someone will write a book about making a film about a story that is taken from this book which is taken from a real-life story that was copied from a story in a book. You know?

You are the stories you tell, whatever their basis in fact or experience. It’s who you are.

Stories are how we connect. Evolution isn’t seriously about thumbs but about how we use language – that’s what raises us above dumb animals, right? Language?

Telling stories to make himself into something that he isn’t. We all do it. We all tell stories to make ourselves look better.

Cats aren’t as friendly as they appear: fur, teeth, instinct, selfishness and cunning. Essentially they’re just big rats.

A tongue in a bag. Teeth. A room drenched in blood.

It's b******* to think of friendship and romance being different. They're not. They're just variations of the same love. Variatons of the same desire to be close.

The world only gives money to those who have converted their time into products.

Make sure you wear something appropriate, dear. You never know who you’ll run into and it’s always smart to look your best.

Humankind is but the pieces in a game, plastic soldiers waging war between boy gods.

As if it would slide off their brains at an angle, leaving a scuff mark.

The nature of the world is inherently obvious, if you remain in a state of total psycho-physical oneness with whatever and all that presently arises.

A brand is the promise of an experience.

I was Ashallayn'darkmyr Tallyn, son of Mab, former prince of the Unseelie Court, and I was not afraid of a witch on a broom.

I watch Pretty Little Liars with my best friend Telly. We go to each other's houses when it airs and we watch it.

What beauty there is in words; what a lurking curious charm in the sound some words.