In what language does rain fall over tormented cities?

Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.

And what has become of it, where is that onetime love? Now it is the grave of a bird, a drop of black quartz, a chunk of wood eroded by the rain.

It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.

I want to do with you what the spring does with the cherry trees.

A book, a book full of human touches, of shirts, a book without loneliness, with men and tools, a book is victory.

Conspirators in pajamas who exchange deep kisses for passwords.