I can be almost terminally grief-stricken because things are so dire but at the same time there's a real lightheartedness about just the recoverability of life of how things change how they're not the same ever again.
I don't ask for the meaning of the song of a bird or the rising of the sun on a misty morning. There they are and they are beautiful.
By Thursday morning, we'd gotten over the worst of it.
I don't hate L.A., but I'm nervous about becoming one of those people who...
I knew however that the next morning after the fight I would have to get...
