Where was the respect? The boys all looked like girls and the girls all looked like whores. Clearly, the country was already halfway in the shit.

You know, he likes me because I&#39;m his son. I have to go long and far to find someone who knows me just as me, rather than me the songwriter or whatever.

Just because I carry it well doesn't mean it's ain't heavy.

He wrote, I do not know how to live.   I do not know either, but I am trying.  I do not know how to try.   There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him, so I buried them, and let them hurt me.

Written By Jonathan Safran Foer

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