It depends on which reality you take and which reality I take.” (p. 318).

I happen to like the strange ones. People who look normal and leads normal lives - they're the ones you have to watch out for.

Time is too conceptual. Not that it stops us from filling it in. So much so, we can't even tell whether our experiences belong to time or to the world of physical things.

The honour of physical decline is waiting, and you have to get used to that reality.

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts.

Maybe the star doesnt even exist any more.Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.

That’s what love’s all about. You’re the only one having those wonderful feelings, but you have to go it alone as you wander through the dark your mind and body have to bear it all. All by yourself.