I remember the N64 coming out. That was a beautiful day.

I remember... seeing the first plane go into the towers and thinking: 'It's a beautiful day. Somebody really must have gotten off course to have the plane go into the towers.'

I used to be a hot-tar roofer. Yeah, I remember that... day.

If it's a beautiful day, I love taking walks. The walks are always aimless.

Every day I don't Google my name, there's another beautiful day.

I don't remember forms or faces now, but I know the girl was beautiful. I know she was; for in the bright moonlight nights, when I start from my sleep, and all is quiet about me, I see, standing still and motionless in one corner of this cell, a slight and wasted figure with long black hair, which streaming down her back, stirs with no earthly wind, and eyes that fix their gaze on me, and never wink or close. . . .