Art Never Comes From Happiness.

Everything Is A Self-portrait. A Diary. Your Whole Drug History’s In A Strand Of Your Hair. Your Fingernails. The Forensic Details. The Lining Of Your Stomach Is A Document. The Calluses On Your Hand Tell All Your Secrets. Your Teeth Give You Away. Your Accent. The Wrinkles Around Your Mouth And Eyes. Everything You Do Shows Your Hand.

People Who Don't Want To Get On With Their Lives, And Don't Want To Accept Responsibility For The Direction Of Their Lives Want To Hang Out With Other People Who Don't Want To Accept Responsibility Or Move On, And So You Find That Your Entire Culture Around You Are People Who Are Just Like You, Because That's What's Comforting.

We’d Turn Our Lives Into A Terrible Adventure. A True-life Horror Story With A Happy Ending. A Trial We’d Survive To Talk About.

The Future Is Just Wasted On Some People.

There Is Nothing Special In The World. Nothing Magic. Just Physics.