I Love The Idea Of

I'm Not Better Than Anyone, And I'm Not Trying To Convince People To Live By My Standards Of What's Right. I'm Trying To Convince Them To Live By Their Own.

How Beautiful Is Forgetting! What Relief It Would Be For The World To Lose Some Of Its Contents.

And Here I Am, Instead Of There. I'm Sitting In This Library, Thousands Of Miles From My Life, Writing Another Letter I Know I Won't Be Able To Send, No Matter How Hard I Try And How Much I Want To. How Did That Boy Making Love Behind That Shed Become This Man Writing This Letter At This Table?

People Around The World Were Moving From One Place To Another. No One Was Staying.

I Imagine A Line, A White Line, Painted On The Sand And On The Ocean, From Me To You.