“love being such, or such,the normal corners of your heartwill never guess how muchmy wonderful jealousy is dark”

“Sometimes I wonder how normal normal people are, and I wonder that most in the grocery store.”

“I wondered if they got to enjoy being normal, to know just how terrific it was, or whether it was just invisible to them like air?”

“Funny thing, your brain,how it always functions on onelevel or another. How, even stuck insome sort of subconcious limbo, it worksyour lungs, your muscle twitches, your heart,in fact, in symphony with your heart, allowing itto feel love. Pain. Jealousy. Guilt. I wonder if it’s thesame for people, lost in comas. Is there really such a thing”

“Living is a form of not being sure, not knowing what next or how. The moment you know how, you begin to die a little. The artist never entirely knows. We guess. We may be wrong, but we take leap after leap in the dark.”

“I often wonder how far I’d go for love. I guess it all depends on the price of gas.
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