It is strange how sad it can be - sunlight in the afternoon, don't you think?
There is always the other side, always.
Something came out from my heart into my throat and then into my eyes.
I am empty of everything. I am empty of everything but the thin, frail ghosts in my room.
Only the magic and the dream are true — all the rest's a lie.
very few people change after well say seven or seventeen. Not really. They get more this or more that and of course look a bit different. But inside they are the same.