At the end of the world the sunset is like a child smashing a pack of crayons into God’s face.
If humans had nothing to fight for, they would fight for nothing.
Our problems come not from what we believe, but from how we believe in what we do.
I listened to the crashing thundering of a tiny tear tumbling like a wave down her beautiful face.
We dream of the world we could have made, and wake up in the world that we did.
The question should be who do we want to be when we grow up, not what.