Mattia thought that he and Alice were like that, twin primes, alone and lost, close but not close enough to really touch each other.

You'll get used to it. In the end you won't even notice it anymore," he said. "How is that possible? It will always be there, right before my eyes." "Exactly," said Mattia. "Which is precisely why you won't see it anymore.

Separating them were two layers of brick, a few inches of plaster, and nine years of silence.

People took what they wanted, they clutched at coincidences, the few there were, and made a life from them. . . . Choices are made in brief seconds and paid for in the time that remains.

Even though he was afraid to admit it, when he was with her it seemed it was worth doing all those normal things that normal people do.

She emptied herself of Fabio and of herself, of all the useless efforts she had made to get where she was and find nothing there. With detached curiosity she observed the rebirth of her weaknesses, her obsessions. This time she would let them decide, since she hadn't been able to do anything anyway. Against certain parts of yourself you remain powerless, she said to herself, as she regressed pleasurably to the time when she was a girl.

His scars were hidden and safe in her hand.