What a cruel irony it is, that we get to choose our thoughts but not our feelings.

Under a night’s skyFilled with a hundred billion starsIs it so crazy to believeOur paths were destined to cross?

You are my drug of choiceI know you’re no good for meAnd though I swear my lipsWill never touch you againHere we are, here we are.

Sometimes it feels like even ifEvery inch of my skin was touching yoursI still wouldn’t be close enough to you.

Love gives the best of highsBut also the worst of hangovers.

As joy dwindles with the yearsI wistfully recallWhen the christmas treeLooked ten feet tallAnd the presents under itSeemed endless And more Than mere wrapping paper.

Fate is the cruelest of masters, takingLife when it pleases or at random, handingRigged decks to whom it pleases, cheatingAll alike and none the wiser, takingEverything away from those with nothing.

I wish I could see butterflies burst from cocoonsWithout tempering my amazementKnowing all beauty eventually dies.

As artists, we create the beautyWe are too afraid to live outAnd search, but always fall just shyOf finding what life is about.

Question marks are met with periodsBy people full of arroganceThey have every answer, nothing mysteriousAnd yet they have no evidence.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want youI'd be lying if I said I didn't wish you were mineThe truth is, you stole my heart from afarThe truth is, you still have it.

You don’t take away my choices. You are my choice.

The direction in which education starts a man will determine his future life

Thus in order to be a "radical" one must be open to the possibility that one's own core assumptions are misconceived.

Annie looks dreamy, but she always does because she can’t see farther than three feet away. Elizabeth looks vaguely angry, but she always does because she can see farther than three feet away.

When you improvise, you work off the laughs from the audience, but when you step on stage to do standup, it's silent.

What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?” “Oh no, Ron,” came Fred’s voice, very sarcastically. “No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up.

There are details within details within details to anchor you in the fact that we are talking about the real world, not an illustrated children's book fantasy world.

I wonder if there was anything I would have done differently. I hope I would have done everything differently, except I know everything would have turned out the same. That's the meaning of fate.

Miracles begin when we consider the possibility that there might be another way.

Teenagers would rather text than talk. They feel calls would reveal too much.