“There are two types of visions. Those that will happen no matter what, and those that can be stopped. Now more than ever, I wish I could tell them apart.”

“There was a time when I thought I loved my first wife more than life itself. But now I hate her guts. I do. How do you explain that? What happened to that love? What happened to it, is what I'd like to know. I wish someone could tell me.”

“I fantasized how no matter what happened, no one could ever come between us, call it wishful thinking, I called it a fact.”

“Dance class, huh?" he said. "You don't look the type.""And what does that mean?" I asked."You're not built like a dancer," he commented."You should probably stop talking now," I advised."Got a little bit more meat on your bones than those girls you see on TV.""You should definitely stop talking now." I glared.”

“Who are we if not the stories we pass down? What happens when there's no one left to tell those stories? To hear them? Who will ever know that I existed?”

“I wouldn't change what happened to me because then I wouldn't have this chance, in front of all of you, to embrace more people than I ever could have with two arms.”