It’s beautiful. Your scar is your unpredictable imperfection.
But that’s depression, isn’t it? It makes you selfish. It…it shrinks your world down. Like you’re inside a tornado or something. How are you supposed to care about the things outside that storm? When it’s all you can do to just survive it?
They used to tell me if you’re depressed anyway, why not be depressed and take a walk instead of being depressed and staying in bed? If it makes no difference, why not get up and go out?
I think the easiest people to fool are ourselves. Fooling ourselves may even be a necessary precondition for fooling others.
The rhythm of a New York summer is passionate and powerful, evoking a rapid calypso, with July being the musical climax.
Adam has the most engaging smile and I realize, this is a private smile reserved just for me . . . like he’s waited his whole life for just one smile.
We Rode to war in a taxi-cab
