They were tricky, those demons. Could they be trusted? Of course they could be trusted. She'd created them. She owned them. They wouldn't lead her astray.

When in doubt, ingest carbs.

I wanted to talk to someone. But who? It’s moments like this, when you need someone the most, that your world seems smallest.

I can be a badass DJ when I want, but I am also an insufferable music snob.

It's bullshit to think of friendship and romance as being different. They're not. They're just variations of the same love. Variations of the same desire to be close.

I want to believe there is a somebody out there for me. I want to believe that I exist to be there for that somebody.

The reward is in the risk.

The handwriting was a girl’s. I mean, you can tell. That enchanted cursive.

Wherever I went, I was on the wrong end of the stampede.

Dumped doesn't even begin to describe it. If you're going to use a trash metaphor, incinerated is more like it.

One of the failures of cellular communication is that tiredness often comes across as sadness.

If you let your man-made actions to be more frequent than your man-said words you will travail with praise in man-win visions. Do more, say less, win big.

But dreams change. Fate has a way showing you paths you want more.

The need to express one's self in writing springs from a maladjustment of life, or from an inner conflict which the adolescent (or the grown man) cannot resolve in action.

No matter what, if you're a parent, you have to make sacrifices.

If the president Donald Trump thinks he can fire Deputy Attorney General Ron Rosenstein and replace him with someone who will shut down the investigation, he's in for a rude awakening.

The further the soul advances, the greater are the adversaries against which it must contend.

Life would be vanilla ice cream without 31 flavors of individuality.

My mother is Irish, my father is black and Venezuelan, and me - I'm tan, I guess.

I am an over-achiever, and I want to be known for the good things in my life.

I'm going to end up like one of those old weirdos who lives in a network of tunnels burrowed through trash - yet I do not fear this.