Is that all I am? A friend?" "Of course not," I say. "I love you." "Am I the only one?" she asks. "Yes. Completely." First, last, and always.

Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.

This is my vision-what I imagine I'll pass through on my way to the light. The blue sky, the clouds, the rays of light.

...the man of my dreams is a girl.

Really? It seems too good to be true. I don't trust it. I don't trust anyone.

Your failures and your faults, they stick with you. They glob into ugly, cancerous growths inside you and make you want to die.

Me? I had no dreams. No longings. Dreams only set you up for disappointment. Plus, you had to have a life to have dreams of a better life.

No one ever found out what was happening inside me. How the pain was eating me away. No one ever came to my rescue, or stood up for me.

What's the point of living if you don't belong anywhere?

What you see, isn't always what you get

I have no intent. I have no reason to live, that's all. When I'm gone, I don't want to be remembered.

To be "modern" means refusing to worry about where the benefits of progress actually come from.

Bad men do what good men only dream.

Don't wait for the right opportunity: create it.

Little by little, even with other cares, the slowly but surely working poison of the garden-mania begins to stir in my long-sluggish veins.

Of the woes Of unhappy poverty, none is more difficult to bear Than that it heaps men with ridicule.

It's hard work to make a four-minute program look effortless and elegant.

Scars are stories, history written on the body

Travel is not about money, it's about courage.

Learn to become more of a witness, create more watchfulness. Let each act, each thought, be seen.

I am moved, shaken, and when it is all over, I look at wonder at what is written or painted.