Funny how "question" contains the word "quest" inside it, as though any small question asked is a journey through briars.
I thought maybe a day was coming when I'd stop constantly worrying about how to live. Maybe at some point I'd just start living, no questions asked.
You take me in, no questions asked. You strip away the ugliness that surrounds me. Are you an angel?
The real questions refuse to be placated. They are the questions asked most frequently and answered most inadequately, the ones that reveal their true natures slowly, reluctantly, most often against your will.