The Truth Feels Different From Other Things.

I Had Forgotten This About Love: How The Simple Things- The Turn Away, The Turn Towards- Could Be So Complicated, And How The Complicated Things- The Stolen Night, The Right Words- Could Be So Simple.

Every Day I Am Someone Else. I Am Myself-i Know I Am Myself-but I Am Also Someone Else. It Has Always Been Like This.

It's Gonna Hurt Because It Matters.

I Am Always Amazed By People Who Know Something Is Wrong But Still Insist On Ignoring It, As If That Will Somehow Make It Go Away. They Spare Themselves The Confrontation, But End Up Boiling In Resentment Anyway.

The Thing About Champagne,you Say, Unfoiling The Cork, Unwinding The Wire Restraint, Is That Is The Ultimate Associative Object. Every Time You Open A Bottle Of Champagne, It's A Celebration, So There's No Better Way Of Starting A Celebration Than Opening A Bottle Of Champagne. Every Time You Sip It, You're Sipping From All Those Other Celebrations. The Joy Accumulates Over Time.