He was still too young to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanks to this artifice we manage to endure the burden of the past.

What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it.

Ah, me, if this is love, then how it torments.

They were people whose lives were slow, who did not see themselves growing old, or falling sick, or dying, but who disappeared little by little in their own time, turning into memories, mists from other days, until they were absorbed into oblivion.

The only regret I will have in dying is if it is not for love.

The usual for me." The usual was a strong infusion of different kinds of Oriental teas, which raised her spirits after her siesta.