people who ran away are friends!

a city is all about how you look at it

My dear, you are not one person. You have many people in you, and each one can ask only some kinds of questions.

for the first time I am confronted with the fact that places and people are like things: both made of memories and meaningful to us in the same way: we construct ourselves in our conversations with them.

Things taste sweeter when you have some hunger left to linger. You feel it hunting your head for buried things; digging into the fractures of your breath warm and greedy.

That was the strange problem with writing, you had discovered. Meaning never matched the words and words always evaded the thought.