I was in my house, alone in the living room, anxious about you, watching the flashes of lightning. And a flash of lightning lit up this truth for me, right in front of my eye. That night i lost you, I lost something inside me. Or perhaps several things. Something central to my existence, the very support for who I am as a person

Another person's life is that person's life. You can't take responsibility.

This uneasiness comes over me from time to time, and I feel as if I've somehow been pieced together from two different puzzles.

After all this, I won't start to hate you.

What we needed were not words and promises but a steady accumulation of small realities.

If I have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound but mine as well.

If you listen to the radio for a whole hour there's maybe one decent song. The rest is mass-produced garbage