“Without a bottle to hold, I feel incomplete, the way Plato says we are each born only half a circle, and we spend out lives seeking out our other half. A drink is my beloved. Without it, I am wanting; I feel half finished.”

“...I am incapable of telling you not to feel. Feel, feel, I say - feel for all you're worth, and even if it half kills you, for that is the only way to live...”

“We lead two lives, and the half of our soul is madness, and half heaven is lit by a black sun. I say I am a man, is the other that hides in me?”

“Feel, feel, I say - feel for all you're worth, and even if it half kills you, for that is the only way to live”

“Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.”

“Our Private RhymeI wish we could go back in time.I thought you'd live forever.I feel I'm only half our rhyme.You left and somehow I must climb back to live without your laughter.Can't we please go back in time?I try to smile, pretend and mimeI'm fine, survived disaster,but know I'm only half our rhyme. Will any spring or summertimeshine without your teasing whisper?I wish we could go back in time.I hope that you'll forgive my whines.I'm trying to be braverSo lonely being half our rhyme.I feel you near. We're intertwined.Your spirit makes me stronger.I know we can't go back in time.I'll strive to be our private rhyme.”