...this is life. Right here in this room, with you, is life.

Maybe that was the price of loving someone: you lost your grasp of where they ended and you began.

The universe is math on fire.

First love is amazing and wonderful, but a kind of panic underlies it, a sense of not knowing what you're doing.

And I kind of love it that you want to know everything.

You don't know what it's like, when your best friend disappears.

Looking for a thousand years is worth it, if in the end you find what you need.

More lies, but maybe lies were better than the truth.

But I feel more real when I'm around her. Like I'm not fading.

The best way to know a city is to eat it.

We can be friends. We can be anything we want to be.

You do not change anything, only need to make difference.

The big artist keeps an eye on nature and steals her tools.

I know it's a cliche, but trust me on this. I once dated a Canadian. Canada = boring.

Sentimentalism is the working off on yourself of feelings you haven't really got.

If you just communicate, you can get by. But if you communicate skillfully, you can work miracles.

I know my sound when i hear it. My stroke is just my stroke.

The delicate sensitivity of a frightened rattlesnake.

People say it is part of the game. You win some, you lose some. But not for me.

To express hope by some star, the eagerness of a soul by a sunset radiance. Certainly there is nothing in that of stereoscopic realism, but is it not something that actually exists?