Maybe happiness was an hourglass already running out, the grains tipping, sifting past each other. Maybe it was a state of mind.
I'd never met anyone so vibrant or alive. He moved like light.
The way I see it, how can you really say you'll love a person longer than love lasts?
Though I often looked for one, I finally had to admit that there could be no cure for Paris.
Nothing hurts if you don't let it.
And sometimes I think there isn’t anything to us but our mistakes.