“Not everything set on fire will rise.”

“i have friends who know everything there is to know about life except how to enjoy it”

“It’s Friday night and the rain is coming and I’ll find myself at some bar making some woman smile, wondering if you’d hop on the next thing moving in this direction, run in the house, throw on your chucks and play with me in the rain.”

“I,” I start, and she turns to look at my lips moving, rehearsing for some grand proposal. “I think it’d be good idea if you brought a few books over and left them on my shelf.” I’m a writer, and this is as good as it gets. She didn’t need a ring, just the ability to borrow a bookmark whenever she needed, or unwritten or unspoken permission to take my copy of Cecil Brown’s The Life and Loves of Mr. Jiveass Nigger with the original cover.”

“I enabled your tendency to be vulnerable and weak, and your habits of crying when 6,000 others were present for the music.”

“I didn’t mean to snore in your ear, but I wanted to inhale all of what was wrapped up in the comforter with me.”

“And you say Paris is gay, but it has its down times. You say go in the spring and not the summer, because watching the autumn creep through the Rive Gauche preparing for winter is hard.”