I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.

A small fact: You are going to die....does this worry you?

There are so many moments to remember and sometimes I think that maybe we're not really people at all. Maybe moments are what we are.... Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more.

Of course you're real-like any thought or any story. It's real when you're in it.

Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment. 'There were stars,' He said. 'They burned my eyes.’ ...from a Himmel street window, he wrote, the stars set fire to my eyes.

It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black. Stars are dying.

I think she ate a salad and some soup. And loneliness. She ate that, too.