I Feel Like A Cliche.

The Future Is Fastidious And Punctual. It Keeps Perfect Time And Arrives Everywhere On The Dot. In Contrast, Its Slacker Brother The Past Has No Use For Clocks Or Appointments. It Comes And Goes As It Pleases In Our Memory, Camping Out Wherever The Hell It Damn Well Wants To In There. Untrustworthy, Prone To Exaggeration, Biased- You Wouldn't Lend It Ten Cents, But It *sure* Can Be Charming And Seductive When It Feels Like It.

I Write About What Interests Me. It's Very Dangerous When You Try To Satisfy An Audience.

The First Great Real Intimacy Between Two People Begins When Secrets Are Told.

Eating Is Sex For Old People.

Part Of Life Is A Quest To Find That One Essential Person Who Will Understand Our Story. But We Choose Wrongly So Often. Over The Ensuing Years That Person We Thought Understood Us Best Ends Up Regarding Us With Pity, Indifference, Or Active Dislike. Those Who Truly Care Can Be Divided Into Two Categories: Those Who Understand Us, And Those Who Forgive Our Worst Sins. Rarely Do We Find Someone Capable Of Both.