Driving A Motorcycle Is Like Flying. All

In Books, Day Breaks, And Night Falls. In Life, Night Rises From The Ground. The Day Hangs On For As Long As It Can, Bright And Eager, Absolutely And Positively The Last Guest To Leave The Party, While The Ground Darkens, Oozing Night Around Your Ankles, Swallowing For Ever That Dropped Contact Lens, Making You Miss That Low Catch In The Gully On The Last Ball Of The Last Over.

It Gets On Top Of Me And I Get Frustrated.

I Have Been Instrumental In Banning Bottled Water On The Set. It Hasn't Gone That Well With The Crew... So I Replaced It With Tequila.

Love Is A Word. A Sound. Its Association With A Particular Feeling Is Arbitrary, Unmeasurable, And Ultimately Meaningless

I Don't Like The Act Of Talking; It Makes Me Slightly Light-headed.