I wanted to cry but I didn't, I probably should have cried, I should have drowned us there in the room ending our suffering.

You do not have to utter anything you do not want to utter,” I told her, and she said, “Then I would never utter another word again.” “You do not have to do anything that you do not want to do.” “Then I would never do anything again.

I have so much to say to you. I want to begin at the beginning, because that is what you deserve. I want to tell you everything, without leaving out a single detail. But where is the beginning? And what is everything?

I was of the opinion that the past is past, and like all that is not now it should remain buried along the side of our memories.

It would be possible, in theory, for life and art to be reversed.

We shared the smile of recognizing ourselves in each other, how many imposters do I have? Do we all make the same mistakes, or has one of us gotten it right, or even just a bit less wrong, am I the imposter?

Why didn't he say goodbye? I gave myself a bruise. Why didn't he say 'I love you'?