You must learn to forgive a man when he’s in love. He’s always a nuisance.
You can forget that other people carry pieces of your own story around in their heads. I’ve always thought—put together all those random pieces form everyone who’s ever known you from your parents to the guy who once sat next to you on a bus, and you’d probably see a fuller version of your life than you even did while living it.
My reasons to live
Were my reasons to die
But at least they were mine
Now I’ve freedom unbound
Cut the laces of life.
It is an ironic habit of human beings to run faster when they have lost their way.
Not how he died, not what he died of, even less why he died, are of concern, to me, only the fact that he did die, he is dead, is important: the loss to me, to us.