"There's a wonderful old italian joke about a poor man who goes to church every day and prays before the statue of a great saint, begging 'Dear saint-please, please, please let me win the lottery.' Finally the exasperated statue comes to life and looks down at the begging man and says 'My son: please, please, please...buy a ticket.' So now I get the joke, and I've got three tickets."

“Problem is, you can’t accept that his relationship had a real short shelf life. You’re like a dog at the dump, baby – you’re just lickin’ at the empty tin can, trying to get more nutrition out of it. And if you’re not careful, that can’s gonna get stuck on your snout forever and make your life miserable. So drop it.” “But I love him.” “So love him.” “But I miss him.” “So miss him. Send him some love and light every time you think about him, then drop it.”