In our town there is a secret spot where you can still see the stars at night, believe it or not. It is the only spot like that left, unclouded by the dwindling skyscrapers rising nearby. It is a good place to go to walk and talk in whispers. Following the little hill that rises from the park to a small clearing which overlooks the statue of the armless general on his bronze steed, most of us later remember this spot as the first place we knew we might be in love.

The longer human beings exist, it seems, the less likely we are to choose to be brave.

Our worlds are so momentary. We are along all our lives and then go off that way as well.

People are just greedy animals, after all.

The city glitters past us with its sharp edges, reminding us of how tiny, how weak, how totally unimportant we are.

The most important things in your life are almost always impossible to predict.

What I've learned is that there is nothing in this life that does not fail to disappoint us, even our own deaths.