“Is it wrong that I’m wishing for congestive heart failure now?” he asks through the food.”

“If he had to wish, what would he wish for, he asked himself. What was there to wish for... a wish asked for the unattainable. The impossible.”

“I’m a cold-hearted bastard. I’m insular, I’m jaded, a workaholic, I’m ruthless and I’m self-serving. I don’t do forever, I rarely even do “I’ll call you tomorrow”. And just because I’m here now it does not mean if you ask me to stay I will.”

“It is not good for all our wishes to be filled; through sickness we recognize the value of health; through evil, the value of good; through hunger, the value of food; through exertion, the value of rest.”

“Earwax is nothing more than sound boogers. I’m too congested to hear anything but I love you. Not that I expect you to flick it at me lightly.”

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.“You. Then, and now. How beautiful youwere back then, and how even more beautiful you are now. How I wish I’d seen you through all those years, and how I’m counting myself as one lucky bastard that I got a second chance to have you in my life … and that you’re crazy enough to be mine.”