I think the only way to get through this life is laughing hard and constantly, mostly at myself.
Right now I’d like all my troubles to stand in front of me in a straight line, and one by one I’d give each a black eye.
Mama used to say, you have to know someone a thousand days before you can glimpse her soul.
You are my butterfly and refuse to set you free.
If we’re mad, we’re mad in large numbers, at least larger than yours.
I keep thinking about a tale my nurse used to read to me about a bird whose wings are pinned to the ground. In the end, when he finally frees himself, he flies so high he becomes a star. My nurse said the story was about how we all have something that keeps us down.