One forgets so quickly one's own youth.
He's satisfied with himself. If you have a soul you can't be satisfied.
One can't love humanity. One can only love people.
To comfort me is like the wrong memory at the wrong place or time: if one is lonely one prefers discomfort.
When I replied that I loved her too in that way, I was the liar, not she, for I never lose the consciousness of time: to me the present is never here: it is always last year or next week.
The next best thing to talking to her is talking about her.