I think that capitalism has just gone too far. And it is actually not limited to the United States. The excesses of capitalism is making us suffer all over the world right now.
And maybe, just maybe, it will.
It happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want, and then you realize that people you've known forever don't see things the way you do. So you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on.
Without you in my arms, I feel an emptiness in my soul. I find myself searching the crowds for your face - I know it's an impossibility, but I cannot help myself.
It’s never too late to do the right thing.
In the blink of an eye, something happens by chance - when you least expect it - sets you on a course that you never planned, into a future you never imagined.
It's the possibility that keeps me going, not the guarantee.
The artist is the compass which, through the raging of the storm, points steadily to the north.
. . . even though you said yes to the wrong man, I hope that won't cause you to say no to the right one.
I'm not worried about what part of their life they needed to massage in order to achieve something that I get to experience as transcendent. Because that's the point of literature, I think: to connect.
I started thinking about how life is a lot like getting pushed out of a plane. You didn't ask to be here, none of us did. But we're all careening through space towards an eventual end that no one's gonna be able to put off. That's the only thing that's definite, this impact. So I started to think about how a lot of us fall at an incredible velocity, and it's over in the blink of an eye.