Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?

I'm not sure if I could tell the difference—between just staring into space and thinking. We're usually thinking all the time, aren't we? Not that we live in order to think, but the opposite isn't true either—that we think in order to live. I believe, contrary to Descartes, that we sometimes think in order not to be. Staring into space might unintentionally have the opposite effect.

I'm going to take you out of here ... I'm going to take you home, to the world where you belong, where cats with bent tails live, and there are little backyards, and alarm clocks ring in the morning.

When I'm running I don't have to talk to anybody and don't have to listen to anybody. This is a part of my day I can't do without.

It's basically impossible for everybody's justice to prevail or everybody's happiness to triumph, so chaos takes over.

It's because of you when I'm in bed in the morning that I can wind my spring and tell myself I have to live another good day.

Maybe it's just hiding somewhere. Or gone on a trip to come home. But falling in love is always a pretty crazy thing. It might appear out of the blue and just grab you. Who knows — maybe even tomorrow.