Precipitate as weather, she appeared from somewhere, then evaporated, leaving only memory.

Time flows in a strange way on Sundays.

If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets.

People's memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive.

That’s how stories happen — with a turning point, an unexpected twist. There’s only one kind of happiness, but misfortune comes in all shapes and sizes. It’s like Tolstoy said. Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.

She was truly a beautiful girl. I could feel a small polished stone sinking through the darkest waters of my heart. All those deep convoluted channels and passageways, and yet she managed to toss her pebble right down to the bottom of it all.

I often dream about the Dolphin Hotel.