It was something every child knew how to do, maintain a direct and full connection with the world. Somehow you forgot about it as you grew up, and had to learn it again.

You never get over it, but you get to where it doesn't bother you so much.

Basically what we have here is a dreamer. Somebody out of touch with reality. When she jumped, she probably thought she'd fly

Heartbreak is funny to everyone but the heartbroken.

What if you had faith and performed good works, what if you died and went to heaven, and what if all the people you met there were people you didn't like?

She understood that her heart operated on its own instructions, that she had no control over it or, indeed, anything else.

One of the reasons that art is important to me is sometimes it actually feels more coherent than life. It orders the chaos.