Worry destroys the ability to write.

I've seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for and if I never see you again, I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.

I am one of those who like to stay late at the cafe," the older waiter said. "With all those who do not want to go to bed. With all those who need a light for the night." "I want to go home and into bed." "We are of two different kinds," the older waiter said. He was now dressed to go home. "It is not only a question of youth and confidence although those things are very beautiful. Each night. I am reluctant to close up because there may be someone who needs the cafe.

I'm with you. No matter what else you have in your head I'm with you and I love you.

This is a good place," he said. "There's a lot of liquor," I agreed.

Wine is a grand thing," I said. "It makes you forget all the bad.

The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.