“Where do these stairs go?They go up!”
“Stairs, are they going up or are they going down? They’re so confusing! If love were a physical thing, it would be stairs.”
“We are all on the stairs, my friend; some of us are going down, some us are going up!”
“-Who's that guy?-What guy?-The one I saw go up the stairs to your room with you.-Oh, that guy.”
“I have no memory of climbing the stairs up to the roof. I don't even know how to get where I am, which is a problem since I'm going to have to get down, ideally in a way that doesn't involve dying.”
“Where do you go with your broken heart in tow? What do you do with the left over you? And how do you know, when to let go? Where does the good go, where does the good go?”