Who knows if you’re alive anymore, but better yet, who knows if I’m even alive anymore?

They always come back, but we don’t always answer.

I stopped writing in the obvious. I wrote how I saw it and if they don’t understand it, that’s fine.

I didn’t fear you. I feared us. I feared what could have been. I feared what could be. I feared the connection we had between each other. The toxicity because I could grasp the danger.

We grow apart because we grow in different stages and not all of our stages align.

If I had amnesia, I know I would fall in love with you all over again.

The fact that neither of us made sense was the beauty of it.

I think we might’ve met in a past life. You know, one of those you pass and think, wow you’re kind of beautiful. Just one of those.

I romanticized him until he was the perfect being. A soul so beautiful, but so immensely evil too.

To fall in love with pain is to fall in love with art.

You didn’t understand the poem, but that was because it wasn’t for you. It was for me to understand the pain you put me through.

I won’t lie. I want to beat the hell out of any man who’s had you—you’d be smart to keep them the hell away from me—but nothing in your past can change how I feel about you.

You have to see the human being in the enemy. If there is potential for change, there is still hope.

My favourite animal is the koala, but his life would be boring. I would rather be a giraffe so that I could contemplate the beauty of Africa.

In the world of late-night comics, Letterman made us feel any hometown boy from Indianapolis could poke fun at celebrities and politicians and do it right to their faces.

My activism was, and is, unknown, unannounced, but somehow effective.

If you're going to succeed, you've got to be like one of those punch-drunk fighters in the old Warner Bros. boxing pictures: too stupid to fall down, you just keep slugging and stay on your feet.

Women are as they are; they necessarily have the defects of their virtues.

I would have none of that rigid circumspect charity which is never done without scrutiny, and which always mistrusts the truth of the necessities laid open to it.

You might be a redneck if you go Christmas shopping for your mom, sister, and girlfriend, and you only need to buy one gift.

We are free to choose our response in any situation, but in doing so we chose the attendant consequence. If we pick up one end of the stick, we pick up the other.