Если тебя не радует собственная жизнь, как можно радоваться, деля ее с другим человеком?
Гораздо проще понять, чего ты не хочешь, чем то, чего ты хочешь.
Когда ты хочешь что-то забыть, то помнишь это ярко и зримо, а подробности того, что нужно запомнить, ускользнут от тебя, как сон на рассвете.
I find myself wondering which is more egregious, to pretend to be happy when you’re not, or to feel so consistently dissatisfied when you should be happy.
But there is one constant, one thing you can always count on: that not only does love come first, but at the end, it is the only thing that remains.
Much later, she would go back and read the entry, and think to herself that memories were that way, too. When you wanted to forget, everything would return in raw, brutal focus. When you wanted to remember, the details would slip away like a dream at dawn.
When you wanted to savor something, it would speed by in a blur. When you wanted to get past something, it would drag on forever.