It's afterwards you realize that the feeling of happiness you had with a man didn't necessarily prove that you loved him.

Even so you have managed to live that love in the only way possible for you. Losing it before it happened.

When you wept it was just over yourself and not because of the marvelous impossibility of reaching her through the difference that separates you.

In a thousand years time this day will have existed for a thousand years to the day. And the ignorance of the whole world about what they've said today will have a date too.

Oh, how good it is to be with someone, sometimes.

Perhaps someone will have seen mine, the one I’m waiting for, just as I saw him, in a ditch when his hands were making their last appeal and his eyes no longer could see. Someone who will never know what that man was to me; someone whose name I’ll never know.

Words don't change their shape, they change their meaning, their function...They don't have a meaning of their own any more, they refer to other words that you don't know, that you've never read or heard...you've never seen their shape, but you feel...you suspect...they correspond to...an empty space inside you...or in the universe.