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“Predictions are difficult to make, particularly when they concern the future.” —Pierre Dac
That woman is a widow. She’s speaking to her dead husband. She’s not eating alone—she’s continuing to talk to him as though he were still sitting across from her. She’s made up her face because he’s still part of her life. Isn’t it incredibly touching? Imagine the kind of strength it takes to constantly reinvent the presence
of a loved one. And she’s right to do so. Just because somebody is gone doesn’t mean they don’t exist anymore—with a little imagination, you’re never alone.
“Imagine how boring that would be if the future was already written! What about our own free will? I think that fortune-tellers are just extremely intuitive people.
Your future depends on your choices, on your will. It belongs to you.” “So your predictions are just stories?” “They’re possibilities, not certainties. You decide.”
“Let me invite you to dinner. You took me out to breakfast and I must have cost you a fortune in petrol. I haven’t even thanked you.” “With pleasure. I’m free every night this week.” “I meant tonight, Ethan.” “I’m also free tonight.”
maybe growing up surrounded by so much love leaves one with unrealistic expectations.”
Streetcars and taxis did battle in the main avenue, and the city teemed with activity.
I smell the passage of time the way that others watch the changing colors of a sunset,
“I was just reading the paper.” “You must have pretty good vision; it’s lying on the floor.”
as they grow up and their vocabulary expands, they will find the right words to express themselves and the violence will subside. Brutality is just the result of frustration, the incapacity to express oneself in words. Without words, people often resort to fists.”
