What was the point of having a situation worthy of fiction if the protagonist didn't behave as he would have done in a book?

History is that certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation.

Some of the freckles I once loved are now closer to liver spots. But it’s still the eyes we look at, isn’t it? That’s where we found the other person, and find them still.

Later on in life, you expect a bit of rest, don't you? You think you deserve it. I did, anyway. But then you begin to understand that the reward of merit is not life's business.

What you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed.

Time...give us enough time and our best-supported decisions will seem wobbly, our certainties whimsical.

And yet it takes only the smallest pleasure or pain to teach us time’s malleability.

May you be ordinary, as the poet once wished the new-born baby.

Life seemed even more of a guessing game than usual.

I thought of the things that had happened to me over the years, and of how little I had made happen.

Is there anything more plausible than a second hand?

I find my data first in myself, not first in the poets. For if I did not find it in myself, I would not be able to find it in the poets.

I was an Agnostic. Agnostics didn't have much to argue about.

After two minutes after this time, and I am already there.

I'm a footballer, that's my job and that's all I want to be known for.

Will Arnett is one of the funniest guys I know. He has seen it all and done it all and come out the other end pretty savvy and pretty strong.

New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break.

Middle age is when you stop criticizing the older generation and start criticizing the younger one.

Grace is the overflowing favor of God, and you can always count on it being available to draw upon as needed.

There are dreadful moments when death comes very near those we love, even if for the time being it passes by. But life is a great adventure, and the worst of all fears is the fear of living.

Sometimes I think of myself as a little bee. I go from one area of the studio to another and gather pollen and sort of stimulate everybody. I guess that’s the job I do.