People Come To New York

He's Not My Step Brother Technically, So I Think It's Okay That I Kissed Him Once.

Wow. I Feel Like In This Riot Of People, I Have Been Kicked In The Stomach, But By The Giddy Police. Forget About The Need For Oxygen. My Mouth Wants To Go Back To The Place It Just Left.

I Figured Being A Bed Salesman Was A Job Of Biblically Bad Paradox. I Mean, Here He Was, Forced To Stand For Eight Or Nine Hours A Day, And The Whole Time He’s Surrounded By Beds. And Not Only That, He’s Surrounded By Shoppers Who See The Beds And Can’t Help But Think, Man, I’d Love To Lie Down On That Bed For A Second. So Not Only Does He Have To Stop Himself From Lying Down, But He Has To Stop Everyone Else From Doing It, Too. I Knew If I Were Him, I Would Be Desperate For Human Company.

There Was No Word In The Dictionary Adequate To Describe The Sensation Other Than Sensational.

There Are Just Lots Of Possibilities In The World...i Need To Keep My Mind Open For What Could Happen And Not Decide That The World Is Hopeless If What I Want To Happen Doesn't Happen. Because Something Else Great Might Happen In Between.