“The houses have been condemned on Memory LaneI’m tired of this struggle that leaves everything the sameI’ve tried so hard to make it workthat I’m dying insideWell, you can take my pastBut you can’t have my tomorrowPromises that remain promises are useless and they’re cheapI wish I could put a price on words so I could make them keepI put so much faith in youI lost all my faith in meWell, you can take my pastBut you can’t have my tomorrowI’m giving up on giving upI can’t leave it all to prayer‘Cause the first step in getting betteris knowing what’s not thereYou said you’d make it betterand that just makes it worseWell, you can take my pastBut you can’t have my tomorrowYes, I want my life to lastSo you can’t have my tomorrowNo, you can’t have my tomorrow”

“I only have a day to give—so why can’t it be a goodone? Why can’t it be a shared one? Why can’t I take the music of the moment and seehow long it can last?”

“I watched you while you were sleeping and you looked completely at peace. I wish I could feel that. I wish I could close my eyes and feel at peace. But I can’t. I can’t feel anything if I’m notwith you, and even then all I can do is want something that I don’t think I can ever have, at least not now. So I left this, and my peace, with you. Stark.”

“You haven’t missed me for one fucking minute. You have never for one single second in your entire pathetic fucking life missed me. You might have missed fucking with my head, and you might have missed the satisfaction you so clearly got from demolishing me, but those are your emotions you’re missing, not mine. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“I can’t think. I can’t work or sleep. My body aches for you. I can make you want me again. Let me try.”

“I’m trying in all my stories to get the feeling of the actual life across—not to just depict life—or criticize it—but to actually make it alive. So that when you have read something by me you actually experience the thing. You can’t do this without putting in the bad and the ugly as well as what is beautiful. Because if it is all beautiful you can’t believe in it. Things aren’t that way.”

“I’m not Jet so I can’t write you a song that makes you understand how important you are to me.  I’m not Nash so I can’t find a building and paint you a mural that makes see that it all starts and ends with you for me. I’m a tattoo artist, I’ll probably always be a tattoo artist (...) Here’s my heart Shaw.  You have it in your handsand I promise you’re the first and last person to ever touch it.  You need tobe careful with it because it’s far more fragile than I ever thought and if you try and give it back I’m not taking it.”