God is the reason I’m surviving, but he’s sure used you in my life wonderfully. I love you.

Isn’t it sad that so often it takes facing death to appreciate life and each other fully?

One day I realized, without God, nothing matters. So, I asked Him into my heart.

I'm not sure if it was entirely sadness that caused the tears, but there was so much love. And that's all that mattered. Despite the fear, despite the sadness, despite the pain, there was love.

I'm worried about my friend not being imagined complexly enough.

I do hope that when the day comes, whether in 1, 10, or 100 years, I don’t want you to think of me and feel sad.

Actually oddly enough, I think my work, the activism, will be forgotten. And I hope it will. Because I hope those problems will have gone away.

I'm not an amazing cook. But I can follow a recipe!

I don't know if street art ever really works indoors. If you domesticate an animal, it goes from being wild and free to sterile, fat and sleepy. So maybe the art should stay outside.

Sometimes I wonder if I met everyone in my life in the wrong order.

I talked about deporting people that are here illegally. They're here illegally. We either have a country or we don't. I talked about deporting people that are here illegally.

There is a time when the hoary head of inveterate abuse will neither draw reverence nor obtain protection.

Deformed persons commonly take revenge on nature.

Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken.

He stops, looks up at this window, and I can see the white oblong of his face. We look at each other. I have no rose to toss, he has no lute. But it's the same kind of hunger.