The strong look for more strength, the weak for excuses.

Lying in bed, half-covered by the blankets, I would drowsily ask why he had come to my door that night long ago. It had become a ritual for us, as it does for all lovers: where, when, why? remember...I understand even old people rehearse their private religion of how they first loved, most guarded of secrets. And he would answer, sleep blurring his words, "Because I had to." The question and the answer were always the same. Why? Because I had to.

We are always tortured by our memory of the last time we were with anyone, what we said, what we did not say.

What is one person's diversion may be another's supreme test.

So I learned two things that night, and the next day, from him: the perfection of a moment, and the fleeting nature of it.

Yet we always envy others, comparing our shadows to their sunlit sides.

Kindness is stronger than iron bars.