Gregory Sherl Quotes

What if there is this time bomb to love. What if it's like you fall in love with so many people who just aren't for you, and with each one, your heart toughens up, and you have to find the one who is right for you before your heart is completely calcified in your chest.

What happened in the bar doesn't matter anymore. None of that matters. It's already the past and the past is dead. It's a shed skin. The present is worthless. It's just a thin membrane between the death of the past and the endless offerings for living in the future. I pick the future.

Writing should be a little bit grainy, it should be a little bit raw. It should be every single thing flowing inside of us, and most of it isn't pretty. If there is nothing at stake in what I'm reading, if there is nothing at stake for the writer, I am just not interested. You gotta be there. You have to basically bleed for it. If not, why are you trying to put this in the world.

You're breaking up with me because I'm not a successful
guitarist, and because I seem like I'm just a guy handing out pamphlets on a street corner!
You're disgusted." This is why Adrian is disgusted with Adrian and has nothing to do with me.
Very little of our relationship has much to do with me, which is one of the actual reasons I'm
breaking up with him. He loves me but doesn't really understand me – so, in effect, does he
really love me?

Books can break a man open,
even ones about a panda, maybe especially so.

As a kid, I went to the library because, in books, there were people really living lives, and unlike my parents, they talked to me about important things.

I feel like I'm going to get in a fight one day about the validity of falling in love so fast. Not a heated one because why would I give a shit if some other person gets it or not? Right now, it's no longer the big flooding rush like when I saw her naked shoulder. It's just this honest, frank truth. I love Evelyn Shriner. Love doesn't start with need. Love meets love and just fucking recognizes itself. I'm supposed to be scared to death. Modern man isn't built for these kinds of things. But I feel good.

Because I live in south Florida I store cans of black beans and gallons
of water in my closet in preparation for hurricane season.
I throw a hurricane party in January. You're my only guest.
We play Marco Polo in bed. The sheets are wet like the roof caved in.
There's a million of me in you. You try to count me as I taste the sweat
on the back of your neck. I call you Sexy Sexy, and we do everything twice.
After, still sweating, we drink Crystal Light out of plastic water bottles.
We discuss the pros and cons of vasectomies. It's not invasive you say.
I wrap the bedsheet around my waist. Minor surgery you say.
You slur the word surgery, like it's a garnish on a dish you just prepared.
I eat your hair until you agree to no longer talk about vasectomies.
We agree to have children someday, and that they will be beautiful even if they're not.
As I watch your eyes grow heavy like soggy clothes, I tell you When I grow up
I'm going to be a famous writer. When I'm famous I'll sign autographs
on Etch-A-Sketches. I'll write poems about writing other poems,
so other poets will get me. You open your eyes long enough to tell me
that when you grow up, you're going to be a steamboat operator.
Your pores can never be too clean you say.
I say I like your pores just fine. I say Your pores are tops.
I kiss you with my whole mouth, and you fall asleep next to my molars.
In the

I tend books the way someone in an aviary tends birds.

I think our souls are always being hole-punched, like old train tickets. In the end, we're all perforated. If we were buckets, we wouldn't hold water.