Never love anyone who treats you like you're ordinary.

The power is in the balance: we are our injuries$$$ as much as we are our successes.

Passing time adds false memories and modifies real ones.

We fall from womb to tomb$$$ from one blackness and toward another$$$ remembering little of the one and knowing nothing of the other ... except through faith.

An idea is like a cold germ: sooner or later someone always catches it.

Jesus watches from the wall$$$<br>But his face is cold as stone$$$<br>And if he loves me<br>As she tells me<br>Why do I feel so all alone?

Sometimes you have to go on when you don't feel like it$$$ and sometimes you're doing good work when it feels like all you're managing is to shovel shit from a sitting position.

Sometimes the things presented to us as choices aren't choices at all.

He supposed that even in Hell$$$ people got an occasional sip of water$$$ if only so they could appreciate the full horror of unrequited thirst when it set in again.

I felt lonely and content at the same time. I believe that is a rare kind of happiness.