One often has to do what they have to do in order to do what they want to do

To hell with the rules. If it sounds right, then it is.

I spent a week living as a man. Which was actually, I'm sorry to say, embarrassingly easy for me to do.

America was the worst place in the world in which to fail, fall sick, get old or die, because then your problems had crystallised into the unforgivable sin. Failure.

My mom told me that I should trust the man who could see the sorrow behind my smile, the love behind my anger, and the reasons behind my silence.

Staring at the world through the bottom of a glass, all I see is a man who's fading fast.

Shoulda, coulda, and woulda won't get it done. In attacking adversity, only a positive attitude, alertness, and regrouping to basics can launch a comeback.

I fall into books the way I fall into lust - wholly, hungrily.

A week of camp life is worth six months of theoretical teaching in the meeting room.

I'd really like to give back to the world, but everything I've achieved, I've earned on my own, so what's the point?