Write a diary, imagining that you are trying to make an old person jealous.

I love you more than words. And I am a big fan of words.

I took a photo of us, mid-embrace. When I am old and alone I will remember that I once held something truly beautiful.

That's a big love letter," she says, squinting. I know what I'm going to say and for a moment I wish there was a film crew documenting my day-to-day life: "I've got a big heart," I say.

Anger does not come easy to me. It is something I have to encourage, like a greyhound in second place.

I find that the only way to get through life is to picture myself in an entirely disconnected reality.

For my last birthday, Dad bought me a pocket-sized Collins English Dictionary. It would only fit in a pocket that had been specially designed.

To us and a wonderful evening of love making.

There will be birds and if they write your name in the sky then you can get on the buses and if they don't you have to die on the floor.

I would never say snog. I would say osculate." She looks at me as if to say: why do you exist?

Depression comes in bouts. Like boxing. Dad is in the blue corner.

The word love has been so abused by publicity and advertisements that we no longer know really what it means.

I've had several really tangible dreams about UFOs, and they've been amazing!

This final sprint of Breaking Bad is like nothing I've ever seen. It's TV as a crescendo, as a magnet, as a wave. These episodes aren't ending so much as they're gasping for breath.

Gary Snyder's The Practice of the Wild is an exquisite, far-sighted articulation of what freedom, wildness, goodness, and grace mean, using the lessons of the planet to teach us how to live.

A man away from home need feel no shame. Let's go out there and shame ourselves like crazy.

Selfless action is a source of strength.

What am I drinking? NyQuil on the rocks, for when you're feeling sick but sociable.

For me, certain shots or scenes are keys in the movie.

It's something that will never be finished. Something that I can keep developing...and adding to.

Like gluttony or drunkenness, hatred seems an agreeable vice when you practice it yourself, but disgusting when observed in others.