“Footsteps in the snowsuggest where you have been,point to where you were going:but when they suddenly vanish,never dismiss the possibilityof flight...”

“Journal became a sanctuary where I could pour out in honesty my pain and joy. It recorded my footsteps and helped me understand where I was standing, where I had been, and even where God pointed.”

“At first he didn't know where he was, whose voice it was. He must have been asleep. And waking suddenly, like that, you woke in a thousand different places that you'd never been.”

“Where were you When everything was falling apart? All my days Were spent by the telephone That never rang And all I needed was a call That never came To the corner of First and Amistad. Lost and insecure You found me, you found me Lyin' on the floor Surrounded, surroundedWhy'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you? Just a little late You found me, you found me.”

“You look at where you're going and where you are and it never makes sense, but then you look back at where you've been and a pattern seems to emerge.”

“Tell me the truth. When you were a kid, did you always color inside the lines?”"Coloring in the lines is the whole point. That’s why they have lines,” I said.“That’s where you’re wrong. The lines are there just to hold you in. Like a prison. Think what you might have created if there hadn’t been any lines.”