The sea is in your eyes. Your face is an eternal summer. Whoever told you otherwise is a fool!

I still smell your absence on my skin. It smells of insomnia and rusted key locks...

I watched you storm towards the restaurant door. It was a chilly December morning and the birds sitting on the high wires in the neighborhood refused to fly any longer.

There was warmth in his large piercing brown eyes. The kind of warmth that tucks a child into bed. The same kind of warmth that dries your wet hair on a rainy December afternoon.

I want to be the thought that takes your mind off the road and your hand off the steering wheel.

There are people that damage you for life. The day they walked into your life will forever be a turning point you will use to label and count your years with... Your own BC and AD.

You have the face of a man who gently caresses field flowers and dandelions. And a smile that is like a dagger, cutting the sun in halves.

You don't need an ocean to feel like you're drowning. You feel it, between your chest and your throat, the weight of it stretching you outside your self, like a dead fish on the shore.

No one made sense of the love they shared. They didn't get the hang of it either. But together, the clocks of winter stopped.. And autumn's fallen leaves turned, swiftly, scarlet.

Build my night with your cheeks.

Count your salted wounds then name themlike the stars of a bright constellationCount your scars and bruises then give themthe wings of forgiveness to fly

The business of lying is transacted in the abode of the gullible.

Christmas embodies everything that I need. However, everything that I need is often made up of a lot of stuff I don’t want.

Of course, you can’t force your mind to be silent. That would be like trying to smooth ripples in water with a flatiron. Water becomes clear and calm only when left alone.

I'm not afraid to take on somebody or say something that somebody will find offensive because unfortunately in comedy, you can't say anything really good without offending somebody.

I was on Prozac for a long time. It may have helped me out of a jam for a little bit, but people stay on it forever.

An enemy of yours is an enemy of mine; an enemy of mine is an enemy of yours; if an enemy of mine is not an enemy of yours, then you're an enemy of mine.

It's easier to see children as mini adults than it is to imagine or to remember what it is to be a child again.

The difficulty with telling stories about real people is you have to find a way of mixing yourself into the matter.

The aristocracy of Western Europe has absolutely tabooed silver in those countries and driven it away from there. Here it finds its only resting place.

Health care is at the beginning of a dialogue with the world... as health care providers, we have to ask ourselves this question: What stories are we not hearing?