Where Would We be Without Words

Gentlemen, nerd girls are the world’s greatest under-utilized romantic resource. And guys, do not tell me that nerd girls aren’t hot because that shows a Paris Hilton-esque failure to understand hotness.

If we wait until we’re ready, we’ll be waiting for the rest of our lives.

You want to know what happiness is? It’s waking up in the middle of the night for no reason, shifting under the blankets and feeling the heat of the person next to you. You turn around and see them in their most peaceful, innocent and vulnerable state. They breathe as though the weight of the world lays on anyone’s shoulder but their own. You smile, kiss their face in the most gentle manner so as not to wake them. You turn back around and involuntarily a grin forms on your own face. You feel an arm wrap around your waist, and you know it doesn’t get any better than this.

There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter—the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last—the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion. And whether it is a farmer arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference: each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh yes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company…

You tell them we’ve all got meanness in us, but we’ve got goodness too, and the only thing worth living for is the good.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

My dear, I think of you always and at night I build myself a warm nest of things I remember and float in your sweetness till morning.

The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea.

All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast.

Time has a wonderful way to show us what really matters.