I love feeling the rhythm of other people's lives. It's like traveling.

I had been walking in silence for so long,I had almost forgotten what my own voice sounded like.My knees were tired;my toes were beginning to ache.

What was important wasn't the fireworks, it was that we were together this evening, together in this place, looking up into the sky at the same time.

No matter where you are, you're always a bit on your own, always an outsider.

This is what it means to be loved... when someone wants to touch you, to be tender.

It was at once a miracle and the most natural thing in the world.

In the uncertain ebb and flow of time and emotions much of one's life history is etched in the senses.