But as for me: I must ask the wounded man where he is hurt, because I cannot become the wounded man. The only wounded man I can be is me.
I leaned in toward her, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that we must kiss.
Entropy increases. Things fall apart.
It is easy to forget how full the world is of people, full to bursting, and each of them imaginable and consistently misimagined.
There is no try. There is only do.
He wasn't perfect or anything. He wasn;t your fairytale prince charming or whatever. He tried to be like that sometimes,but i liked him best when that stuff fell away.