Time is too large, it can't be filled up. Everything you plunge into it is stretched and disintegrates. - Jean-Paul Sartre

It's your weakness gives them their strength. Mark how they dare not speak to me. A nameless horror has descended on you, keeping us apart. And yet why should this be? What have you lived through that I have not shared? Do you imagine that my mother's cries will ever cease ringing in my ears? Or that my eyes will ever cease to see her great sad eyes, lakes of lambent darkness in the pallor of it will ever cease ravaging my heart? But what matter? I am free. Beyond anguish, beyond remorse. Free. And at one with myself. No, you must not loathe yourself, Electra. Give me your hand. I shall never forsake you.

De improviso se me aparece la verdad: este hombre morirá pronto. Seguramente lo sabe; basta con que se haya mirado en un espejo; cada día se parece un poco más al cadáver que será.

how nice it is to know you are so profoundly happy, it's had me beaming all day.