We live in a world made up more of story than stuff. We are creatures of memory more than reminders, of love more than likes.

...the meaning of my thoughts started to float away from me, like leaves that fall from a tree into a river, I was the tree, the world was the river.

We had everything to say to each other, but no ways to say it

I felt it very moving to feel his touch, and to remember that hands can also show love.

It’s much easier to be cruel than one might think.

This brings me back to the image of Kafka standing before a fish in the Berlin aquarium, a fish on which his gaze fell in a newly found peace after he decided not to eat animals. Kafka recognized that fish as a member of his invisible family- not as his equal, of course, but as another being that was his concern.

How beautiful is forgetting! What relief it would be for the world to lose some of its contents.