Those whom we most love are often the most alien to us.

People can misconstrue closeness for love.

I do not know what to do with the emotions inside me. I do not know how to be this close to someone and still hold on to myself.

There I often walked along the shore, listened to the sea, and thought as I had done in my youth, with amazement and horror, about the sad and senseless confusion of life, that one could love in vain, that people who meant well toward each other should work out their destinies separately, each one going his own inexplicable way, and how each would like to help and draw close to the other and yet was unable to do so, as in troubled meaningless dreams.

Maybe I’m just farsighted. The further away something is, the better I can see it but once it gets close, I lose sight of it.

He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began.