I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it -- to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once.

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I think you still love me, but we can’t escape the fact that I’m not enough for you. I knew this was going to happen. So I’m not blaming you for falling in love with another woman. I’m not angry, either. I should be, but I’m not. I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt, but I was wrong.

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Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.

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I dream. Sometimes I think that's the only right thing to do.

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And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.

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Nobody likes being alone that much. I don't go out of my way to make friends, that's all. It just leads to disappointment.

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But I didn't understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair.

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It's like Tolstoy said. Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.

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If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets.

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If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.

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