I wonder if I’ll ever have to decide which is worse, life as we’re living or no life at all.
If God wanted a world filled with saints, He never would have created adolescence.
But she’s wrong about hell. You don’t have to wait until you’re dead to get there.
Sometimes the rules don’t work. Sometimes the rules cause the anarchy.
I guess I always felt even if the world came to an end, McDonald’s would still be open.
Which means every tomorrow is going to be worse than every today. Why feel sorry for myself today when tomorrow’s bound to be worse?
We’re all alive. We’re all healthy. These are the good times.
My existence is the only gift I have left to give, but it will have to do.
I have scars. No one alive today doesn’t. But Alex’s scars have to be much deeper than mine.
Every day we’re one day closer to death. But there’s no reason to rush into it.
One of the more gratifying things about guilt is that it makes us feel important.
Sometimes the rues don’t work. Sometimes the rules cause the anarchy.
I never really thought about how when I look at the moon, it’s the same moon as Shakespeare and Marie Antoinette and George Washington and Cleopatra looked at.
So we baked and sweated together. I like punching the dough. I told myself it was the moon and punched it senseless.
We’re all alive. We’re all health. These are the good times.
The only way you can be the best at something is to be the best you can be.
Just in case the world ends tomorrow, we might as well enjoy today.