When you are used to the kind of life -of never getting anything you want- you stop knowing what it is you want.

I probably still haven’t completely adapted to the world. I don’t know, I feel like this isn’t the real world. The people, the scene: they just don’t seem real to me.

ice contains no future , just the past, sealed away. As if they're alive, everything in the world is sealed up inside, clear and distinct. Ice can preserve all kinds of things that way- cleanly, clearly. That's the essence of ice, the role it plays.

Those were strange days, now that I look back at them. In the midst of life, everything revolved around death.

Understanding is but the sum of misunderstandings.

I never trust people with no appetite. It's like they're always holding something back on you.

I spent thirty-three years in another man's shadow. I went everywhere he went, I helped him with everything he did. I was in a sense a part of him. When you live like that for a long time, you gradually lose track of what it is you yourself really want out of life