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The dead cannot call out to us. All they can do is wait for us to call to them. Except for the dead whose names are unknown. Uncalled by anyone, they sink ever deeper into solitude.
It’s unbearable to have your identity summed up by one thing and one thing only and for other people to have control over what that is.”
memories make people who they are.
No one can deal with their suffering on their own. We all seek someone else to be the conduit for our emotions.
his voice had the muffled timbre common in middle age,
There is a certain kind of loneliness that can only be soothed by finding yourself within the tale of another’s trauma.”
When we meet a person who will become our beloved, we are attracted to who they are in the present and grow to love them as a whole, including their past. But if a lover finds out that their beloved’s past is in fact the past of a stranger, what happens to the love the two shared?”
I wonder if there’s a life out there that someone is about to part with that I might be able to lead better . . . If I were to hand off my life to someone right now, would he be able to lead the remainder of my life better than me?
