“When I’m tired, I say, “I’m calling it a night.” Well, what else am I going to call it? Nathan?”

“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’m an artist. I’m a cave painter. Archaeologists and art critics of the future are going to call me a genius. They’re going to say I was so far ahead of my time that I was way behind my time.”

“Pa extended his paw as if to say, “I’m here, and I’m human.” What else could I do but say, “Meow.”

“I find out a lot about myself by sleeping. Dreams, they are who I am when I’m too tired to be me.”

“I need to call it a night. But only because I don’t know what else to call it. What’s in between evening and morning?”

“What I did I can’t undo. But I can address it, and undress you.” This is the chorus in a new song I’m writing called “Mannequin Love.”