The light outside seemed to be surging up against the window seeping through, and smearing the faces of the people facing it with a coat of yellow oil.

“Yes, I know what passion would fill me with all its power. Before, I was too yo…”

“Personne n'est capable réellement de penser à personne, fût-ce dans le pire des…”

“Turbulent childhood, adolescent daydreams in the drone of the bus's motor, morn…”

“The act of love is a confession.”