What I know is you can't go back. You can't press delete and re-key your life.

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

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.

We have the right and the responsibility to be intolerant of those things which should not be tolerated.

Cultivate the habit of setting clearly-defined written goals

We all have a terminal disease far worse than cancer that will kill us morally and spiritually.It’s called sin.

Do not humiliate people, shame is a lifetime lasting effect that can be nursed but can never be cured.

It's always times like these when I think of you and I wonder if you ever think of me.

Where flowers degenerate man cannot live.

But I don't want to be compared to anyone like to impose my own style of play and do the best for myself and for the club here.

I'm not a big fan of doing what my mother wants me to do, like any daughter.

Verbosity leads to unclear, inarticulate things.

I know as a critic I'm required to have a well-armored heart. I must be a cynical wise guy to show my great sophistication. No pushover, me.