I used to think the years would go by in order, that you get older one year at a time. But it's not like that. It happens overnight.

My father always told me: 'Give somebody a hand and he'll take an arm.

It feels good to think about you when I'm warm in bed. I feel as if you're curled up there beside me, fast asleep. And I think how great it would be if it were true.

I’m free, I think. I shut my eyes and think hard and deep about how free I am, but I can’t really understand what it means. All I know is I’m totally alone. All alone in an unfamiliar place, like some solitary explorer who’s lost his compass and his map. Is this what it means to be free? I don’t know, and I give up thinking about it.

I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it -- to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once.

I'm not a fast thinker, but once I am interested in something, I am doing it for many years.

What if I’ve forgotten the most important thing?