Why Is There Happiness And Comfort And

We Grew Up Founding Our Dreams On The Infinite Promise Of American Advertising. I Still Believe That One Can Learn To Play The Piano By Mail And That Mud Will Give You A Perfect Complexion.

Nothing Could Have Survived Our Life.

I Suppose All We Can Really Share With People Is A Taste For The Same Kinds Of Weather.

I Remember Every Single Spot Of Light That Ever Gouged A Shadow Beside Your Bones.

I'm Just Not The Same. Half Of Me Is Out There Looking For You And The Other Half Is Wishing I Didn't Have To." I Don't Want To Live - I Want To Love First, And Live Incidentally. Don't-don't Ever Think Of The Things You Can't Give Me-you've Trusted Me With The Dearest Heart Of All-and It's So Damn Much More Than Anybody Else In All The World Has Ever Had.