If I can write one sentence, simple and true every day, I'll be satisfied.

I'd never met anyone so vibrant or alive. He moved like light.

To marry was to say you believed in the future and in the past, too-that history and tradition and hope could stay knit together to hold you up.

Happiness is so awfully complicated, but freedom isn't. You're either tied down or you're not.

People belong to each other only as long as they both believe. He stopped believing.

In Paris, you couldn't really turn around without seeing the result of lovers' bad decisions. An artist given to sexual excess was almost a cliché, but no one seemed to mind. As long as you were making something good or interesting or sensational, you could have as many lovers as you wanted and ruin them all.

The way I see it, how can you really say you'll love a person longer than love lasts?