The silence between us was so profound I thought part of it must be my fault.

You cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time.

There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in the room.

I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn't see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.

Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.

And you grit your teeth, despising yourself for your tremulous sensitivity, and wondering how human beings can suffer their individualities to be mercilessly crushed under a machinelike dictatorship, be it of industry, state or organization, all their lives long.

What did my arms do before they held you?