Work Hard At . . . Something.

Salmon. Salmon, Salmon, Salmon, Salmon. I Eat So Much Salmon At These Weddings, Twice A Year I Get This Urge To Swim Upstream.

The Attraction Of A Life Devoted To Sensation, Pleasure And Self Would Probably Wear Thin One Day, But There Was Still Plenty Of Time For That Yet.

I'm Not The Consolation Prize, Dex. I'm Not Something You Resort To. I Happen To Think I'm Worth More Than That.

These Days Grief Seems Like Walking On A Frozen River; Most Of The Time He Feels Safe Enough, But There Is Always That Danger That He Will Plunge Through. Now He Hears The Ice Creak Beneath Him, And So Intense And Panicking Is The Sensation That He Has To Stand For A Moment, Press His Hands To His Face And Catch His Breath.

Well, It's So Hard For Books To Take Off. You Give Years Of Your Life To Something That Probably Won't Happen, So When It Does, It Feels A Little Unjust.