if you start living for the smallest reasons, that’s when you know you’re really living. the smell of rain after a thunderstorm, the shades of pavements when it’s autumn, the harvest season and the unspoken competition to pick the freshest tomatoes, the mediocre midnights and the color of the sunsets, the smell of bakeshops early in the morning, the frosty breeze of the fast-approaching winter, the warmth of oven when baking christmas cookies, the thickness of paper when flipping through magazine pages, the smell of new books and new clothes and new things. when you start looking at things, really really looking, you’ll start living. because then you’ll understand how it is to really be a human in this world full of people.

When something bothered me, I didn’t talk with anyone about it. I thought it over all by myself, came to a conclusion, and took action alone. Not that I really felt lonely. I thought that’s just the way things are. Human beings, in the final analysis, have to survive on their own.

Never, never tell them. Try and remember that. Never tell anyone anything ever. Never tell anyone anything again.