all this Beethoven and rain

Don't we forgive everything of a lover? We forgive selfishness, desire, guile. As long as we are the motive for it...There are some European words you can never translate properly into another language.

I don't see novels ending with any real sense of closure.

He will hear the rain before he feels it, a clicking on the dry grass, on the olive leaves.

Sleep is a prison for a boy who has friends to meet.

Most of the time in our world, truth is just opinion.

He has been disassembled by her. And if she has brought him to this, what has he brought her to?