She Had The Kind Of Fingers You

We Kiss. Her Hands Are Freezing On My Face, And She Tastes Like Coffee And The Smell Of The Onion Is Still Stuck In My Nose, And My Lips Are All Dry From The Endless Winter. And It's Awesome.

I'm Not Embarrassed By My Faith, And I'm Also Not Embarrassed By My Doubt.

It's Hard As Hell To Hold On To Your Dignity When The Risen Sun Is Too Bright In Your Losing Eyes, And That's What I Was Thinking About As We Hunted For Bad Guys Through The Ruins Of A City That Didn't Exist.

Do You Know What Your Problem Is? You Can't Live With The Idea That Someone Might Leave.

We’re As Likely To Hurt The Universe As We Are To Help It, And We’re Not Likely To Do Either.