Screenwriter Flacco nicely evokes the aftermath of San Francisco's 1906 earthquake in his fiction debut, a novel of suspense.

You are my sunrise. Your smile lights up my world. I could give anything just to see you happy. True love is not in getting things from others but in giving and sharing more and more.

It's the children the world almost breaks who grow up to save it.

From the moment of birth, folks suddenly wanted what others said they could not have. Kids craved the most sugary sweets how alcoholics thirsted for one more drink with the most impactful punch.

(Man, I wish life had emoticons, you know? So that when your dad pisses you off you could like click a mental button or something and just show him one of those rolleyes. That would rock) Anyway.

Honestly, in retrospect, I would wish for future generations to have the ability to have a coming out process that was less alcohol-soaked than mine was.

The Smythe-Smith musicale. Thankfully, it came around just once per year, because Hyacinth was quite certain it would take a full twelve months for her ears to recover.

If you are killing time, it's not murder. It's suicide.

Harijan service is a duty the caste Hindus owe to themselves.

I really am not a weakling. We like to do a lot of takes, so it ends up being pretty physically grueling.

I'm open to any kind of situation in a song as long as it touches my heart.

If I cannot rest and relax, all the work I do is for naught.