Knowledge Is The Only Thing I Take

I Want To Write My Life. I Want To Be Able To Write My Life. You Are A Second Away From Saying It. You Have No Idea How Much I Love You.

As Long As We Can Conjure, Who Needs Anything Else? As Long As We Can Agree On The Magical Lie And Be Happy, What More Is There To Ask For? “i Loved You From That Moment On,” I Say. “i Loved You From That Moment On,” You Agree.

In Small Letters, Someone Has Written Never Forget On One Of The Slats. I Know It's Supposed To Be A Pledge, But It Feels Like A Curse. Don't We Have To Forget Some Of It? Don't We Have To Forget This Feeling? If We Don't, How Will We Live?

I Have Never Had Anybody Talk To Me Like This. This Is Not A Flirty Sixth-grade Phone Call Or Bantering With Friends Or Words Passed In A Note. I Feel That If My Soul Could Talk It Would Talk Like This.

New Yorkers Love The Bigness -- The Skyscrapers, The Freedom, The Lights. But They Also Love It When They Can Carve Out Some Smallness For Themselves. When The Guy At The Corner Store Knows Which Newspaper You Want. When The Barista Has Your Order Ready Before You Open Your Mouth. When You Start To Recognize The People In Your Orbit, And You Know That, Say, If You're Waiting For The Subway At Eight Fifteen On The Dot, Odds Are The Redhead With The Red Umbrella Is Going To Be There Too.