Beneath the excitement of travel was a core of sadness, knowing this would become the memory of a place he’d seen for the last time.

Another day, another pithy aphorism.

She sat up suddenly and, looking past him, cried I have so much packing to do. So much packing! He stroked her forehead until she fell back to sleep. No more packing, my love. No more packing.

Glimpsing my reflection in a window, I think I understand your irritation when you see me coming—that ponderous expression as I fail to grasp the obvious.

In retrospect, you never had a chance. You didn’t have the resources. You didn’t have the tools. And as you feel yourself going under, you just want to sleep.

What differentiates man from animal: vulgarity.

Such beauty that the only suitable response would be to no longer exist.

The collection exclusively featured images of mayhem and disaster.

I suspect the only true answer to pretty much anything is maybe.