We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything - what a waste. Most of us can't help but live as though we've got two lives to live, one is the mockup, the other the finished version, and then there are all those versions in between. But there's only one, and before you know it, your heart is worn out, and, as for your body, there comes a point when no one looks at it, much less wants to come near it. Why do people not take up the chance to be happy when it is offered to them? - Call me by your name

Give me faces and streets--give me these phantoms incessant and endless along the trottoirs! Give me interminable eyes--give me women--give me comrades and lovers by the thousand! Let me see new ones every day--let me hold new ones by the hand every day! Give me such shows--give me the streets of Manhattan!

She had blue skin. And so did he. He kept it hid And so did she. They searched for blue Their whole life through, Then passed right by — And never knew.

“Who are you?' 'No one of consequence.' 'I must know.' 'Get used to disappointment.” “Why do you wear a mask and hood?' I think everybody will in the near future,' was the man in black's reply. 'They're terribly comfortable.” “Everyone had told her, since she became a princess-in-training, that she was very likely the most beautiful woman in the world. Now she was going to be the richest and the most powerful as well. Don't expect too much from life, Buttercup told herself as she rode along. Learn to be satisfied with what you have.”

We are all like the bright moon, we still have our darker side