“When I was in the second grade, I used to think love was the feeling a man gets while riding a motorcycle and having a woman embrace him tightly from behind. Maybe I’m cynical now, but I’m starting to think love is a unicycle with a flat tire.”

“Instead of a motorcycle gang, I’m thinking of starting up a unicycle gang. We’ll be hell on wheel. (My first recruit will be a woman named Helen Wiel.)”

“I’m tired of calling @PapaJohns. I wish they’d call me for once. I’m starting to think they don’t love me.”

“I don’t have a motorcycle, but I do have a picture of a motorcycle helmet. And a photo of a half-eaten Big Mac from 2004. I know, I’m an adrenaline junky.”

“I’m nothing. I’m just a humble man in a bumblebee costume trying to pollinate with a woman as romantic as a flower. Love doesn’t have to sting.”

“I don’t know when I’m going to stop when I start—or start when I stop. That’s why I simply love continuously.”

“A brick could be used to show how patient you are. Somewhere between one brick and a million bricks lies a home. For me, my home is one brick, and I carry it with me wherever I go, because I’m always on the move. Maybe one day, when I’m a wealthy man, I’ll get a second brick and walk around with my mansion in my hands.
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