Hate is always a clash between our spirit and someone else's body.

But here's the worst part: the trick to life lies in hiding from those we hold most dear how much they mean to is; if not, we'd lose them.

We can all do good deeds, but very few of us can think good thoughts.

Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things: air, sleep, dreams, sea, the sky - all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.

We never remember days, only moments.

Life is pain and the enjoyment of love is an anesthetic.

The cadence of suffering has begun. Every evening at dusk, my heart constricts until night has come.