Artists are always the Johnny Appleseeds of gentrification.
She wants another spin on the wheel of fortune? This was always my problem with her: I could never tell the difference between the feeling of love and the feeling of danger.
I remain exquisitely still. Anytime the eagle of another heart soars, whatever you are-mouse, toad, snake- don't move. From such great heights, it might not see you.
I know already that I can survive it. That's the sorrow of it all. That whatever comes I'll survive it. I mean, even if the worst were to be true, would it really be the worst?
Not everyone's life will be a great love story.