Probably." "Again with the probablys." "A world full of probablys," she said.

What was lost was lost. There was no retrieving it, however you schemed, no returning to how things were, no going back.

This was never any place I was meant to be. This isn’t a place for me.

Everything passes. Nobody gets anything for keeps. And that's how we've got to live.

I find myself thinking about my ongoing existence as a human being and the path that lies ahead of me. Though of course these thoughts lead to but one place - death.

People fall in love without reason, without even wanting to. You can't predict it. That's love.

We're both looking at the same moon, in the same world. We're connected to reality by the same line. All I have to do is quietly draw it towards me.