Life seems sometimes like nothing more than a series of losses, from beginning to end. That's the given. I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with someone even if they could have. That's the given. How you respond to those losses, what you make of what's left, that's the part you have to make up as you go. I need to know these people exist. What a strange thing! to be alive beneath cherry blossoms. Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart...no matter what the merciless hours have done to her. If you aren’t grateful for what you already have, what makes you think you would be happy with more.
Warm Regards