I think living with the absence of someone we love is like living in front of a mountain from which a person - a speck in the distance, on some distance ridge - is perpetually waving.

Language is like drinking from one's own reflection in still water. We only take from it what we are at the time.

Love between strangers takes only a few seconds and can last a whole life.

For lonely people, rain is a chance to be touched.

When small drops began to fall and darken the world in penny-shaped circles, no one around him scurried for cover. For lonely people, rain is a chance to be touched.

Even if you have loved only once in your life, you're ruined.

I wonder if things can happen too early or too late or if everything happens at exactly the right time. If so, how sad and beautiful.