Me, to my husband while searching for my keys and wallet the other morning: "Jake, we spend half our lives searching for the things we lost." Jake: "That's deep."

She searched for his face in crowds where he'd never be, in places that he'd never seen. In her mind he was everywhere haunting her. Her emptiness was beyond heartache, it was a well played tragedy.

Oh, gentlemen, perhaps I really regard myself as an intelligent man only because throughout my entire life I've never been able to start or finish anything. Granted, granted I'm a babbler, a harmless, irksome babbler, as we all are. But what's to be done if the sole and express purpose of every intelligent man is babble--that is, a deliberate pouring from empty into void.

Sixty-four thousand dollars for a question, I hope they are asking you the meaning of life.

The meaning of life is life.

Take today and stop working so hard at being someone else. For the greatness of being you is that no one in this world will ever know what it’s like to be you.