Is it possible, in the final analysis, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another? We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close can we come to that person's essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?

If you want to talk about something new, you have to make up a new kind of language.

We heard no other sounds. We met no other people. We saw only two bright red birds leap startled from the center of the meadow and dart into the woods.

What’s most important is what you can’t see but can feel in your heart. To be able to grasp something of value, sometimes you have to perform seemingly inefficient acts. But even activities that appear fruitless don’t necessarily end up so. That’s the feeling I have, as someone who’s felt this, who’s experienced it.

I am a flawed human being - a far more flawed human being than you realize.

Who can really distinguish between the sea and what's reflected in it? Or tell the difference between the falling rain and loneliness?

So this was how secrets got started, I thought to myself. People constructed them little by little.