Old As He Was, He Still Missed

I Don't Believe That Life Is Supposed To Make You Feel Good, Or To Make You Feel Miserable Either. Life Is Just Supposed To Make You Feel.

Contempt Mates Well With Pity.

There's Something Hypocritical About A City That Keeps Half Of Its Population Underground Half Of The Time; You Can Start Believing That There's Much More Space Than There Really Is-to Live, To Work.

I Don't Want To Write Without A Sense Of Drama, Without Passion, Or Without Both Eyes Open To The World Around Me.

Old As He Was, He Still Missed His Daddy Sometimes.