The past is often a horrible indicator of how something will turn out. Patterns are excellent indicators.

When the door is shut and you’re on the wrong side, you can still go home and look at the pictures.

She was everything to me, as everything as distance can be. She was a list of things to do that got left in a pocket and washed, and was now crumbling in my hands. I could barely make some of her out, and the rest was lost to me. I remembered the important things, though. I remembered to breathe – she was the air to me.

Don’t try to be perfect all the time. It’s the only way to reach perfection. Appreciate the moments of perfection, the perfect stepping stones across a flawed river.

Obviously I’m a fucking moron who doesn’t learn unless I’m beat over the head like a pinata many many times until some truth comes out. I pick it up and say “Look! Candy truth!” Then I eat it and I get sick and vomit up truth, and only then do I learn the fucking lesson.

All the successful people you’ve ever met have failed dozens of times. They just use sleight-of-hand to make you look at the successes and ignore the failures.

When one door closes, another door opens. Or, you can just open the first door, because that’s how doors work.

The past can change just as much as the future, because the further you get from it, the more you idealize, distort or deny it.

Silence is an answer, too.