—ALL THOSE COLORS?  THEY’RE GONE NOW.

…Lucky me.  I got to know you.

…Salt is for meat, Silly, not your face.

…I’m going to ask you to hold my hand while I’m falling.  Is that okay?

...It’s been a minute.  A very long minute.

…What were you doing, all this time away?

…So many things—regret, inertia, fear--are like a warm tear on a cheek.

…There’s the kite and the line, the thing that flies and the thing that kind of doesn’t.

…Is it just numb and nothing and alone?

…You can see the marks, but if you don’t know how to read them, what good is it?

…I always kind of thought it was my fault.

…The question is, whose story do you need to hear the most?

…I’d meet you halfway, but that’s difficult when we both have different definitions of what halfway is.

…I keep stumbling before I speak, and I’m supposed to be the one who’s lived a thing or two.

…I wish I was as strong as you, but I’m glad you’re doing so well.

…In reality, we’re all a little full of shit.  Sometimes we say what we don’t really believe.  We’re clumsy with time and emotion.  We stretch both so that they suit us for the statement we’re trying to make.

…Your last was the sweetest hammer.  It did it’s work.