No doubt our love was still there, but quite simply it was unusable, heavy to carry, inert inside of us, sterile as crime or condemnation. It was no longer anything except a patience with no future and a stubborn wait.

“Büyük duygular evrenlerini kendileriyle birlikte dolaştırırlar, görkemli ya da …”

“Of whom and of what can I say: "I know that"! This heart within me I can feel, …”

“Няма истина, която да не носи в себе си своята горест.”

“They knew now that if there is one thing one can always yearn for, and sometime…”