The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.

Seeing him again after so long awakened something inside me. I was surprised to find myself feeling sad rather than joyful, as I would have imagined.

I went back to those graves not long afterward and found as I stood there that sadness was a very heavy thing. My body weighed twice what it had only a moment earlier, as if those graves were pulling me down toward them.

Friendship is a precious thing, Sayuri. One mustn't throw it away.

I don't like things held up before me that I cannot have.

Was life nothing more than a storm that constantly washed away what had been there only a moment before, and left behind something barren and unrecognizable?

We human beings have a remarkable way of growing accustomed to things.