Lost in dreams

“‘Weißt du, wie ich Liebe definieren würde?’ fragt er rhetorisch. ‘Dass man nicht durch einen Supermarkt gehen kann, ohne dabei an die Frau zu denken, die man liebt, und lauter Dinge zu kaufen, von denen man weiß, dass sie sie mag.’”

“Komm, geh mit mir zum Meer, um Freiheit zu verstehen.”

“When I met you, flowers started growing in the darkest parts of my mind.”

“That’s one of the great things about music. You sing a song to 85,000 people and they’ll sing it back for 85,000 reasons.”

““It’s so easy to say I love you but so hard to take it seriously.””

“I think so much about her, all day, all night. As soon as I left her yesterday, there was a painful void, and I shivered with cold. I love her extravagances, her humility, her fear of disillusion. The struggle for expression was not acute for me before I met her. Her talk is like my secret writing. At times incoherent, at times abstract, at times blind. Let incoherent be, then. Our meeting each other has been emotionally too disturbing. Both of us had an inviolate self we never gave. It was our dreaming self. Now we have invaded this world in each other. She is too rich to be fully known in a few days. She says I am too rich for her. We want to separate and regain our lucidity. But I have fewer fears than she has. I would not separate from her of my own free will. I want to give myself away, to lose myself. I have a terror of disappointing her. Her idealism is so demanding. It awes me. With her I feel timelessness. Our talk is only half-talk. What a secret language we talk. Undertones, overtones, nuances, abstractions, symbols. What is this powerful magic we create together and indulge in?”