In the end I didn't know who I was crying for, but it was something my body wanted to do, as though trying to digest grief.

I don’t see the point of truth anymore, it causes just as much heartbreak as lying.

Whether you know it or not, we leave parts of ourselves wherever we go.

Relationships break down, because it's about self. But when you take the "I" out of it and you're like, how can I make them happy, that means sacrifice. I think you have to be prepared to sacrifice, and a lot of people just aren't willing to. You have to give up a piece of yourself. By doing that, you get a greater sense of who you are. When you give something up, you need to fill the space where it used to be, and you understand the landscape in yourself a bit more.

The passions we cannot control are the ones that define us.

Sometimes, language is the sound of longing

When Bach died some of his children sold his scores to the butcher they had decided the paper was more useful for wrapping meat. In a small village in Germany a father brought home a limp goose wrapped in paper that was covered with strange and beautiful symbols.