Sentiment isn’t a bad thing.

I do not believe in using infants for nefarious activities.

I see a cathedral, for instance, one that’s stood for centuries and I marvel and I wonder... How many people passed through the doors? What did they pray for? How many wars did they wish to see ended? How many christenings, weddings, and funerals? Same thing with a record, I guess. Who bought it? Did they ever make love while it was playing? How many times did they read the notes in the cover? Did a song on the album change their life? I suppose it’s odd to think about things like that.

WARD: I’ll be home in time for dinner, honey.JUNE: Alright—I’m pregnant—Have a fine day at work, dear. WARD exits… WARD reenters.JUNE: Did you forget something, dear?WARD: What did you say?JUNE: I asked if you’d forgotten anything—

Sentiment isn't a bad thing.

She felt dirty, ugly and tired. She felt like a marshmallow heading into a house fire armed with chocolate and graham crackers.

I’m going to become a beat poet and a lesbian!

Hug your nightmares.

It isn’t easy when life tears away the one person in a million you thought you could always trust.

Some people, when there’s a threat of everything they have being ripped away at a moments notice, they place value on the things they can keep with them, or find anywhere, so they can say ‘these are my things, nobody else can touch them.’