For a certain kind of person, love begins from something tiny or silly. From something like that or it doesn’t begin at all.

Deep rivers run quiet.

you mean machines are like humans?"I shook my head. "No, not like humans. With machines the feeling is, well, more finite. It doesn't go any further. With humans it's different. The feeling is always changing. Like if you love somebody, the love is always shifting or wavering. It's always questioning or inflating or disappearing or denying or hurting. And the thing is, you can't do anything about it, you can't control it. With my Subaru, it's not so complicated.

No era mi brazo lo que ella buscaba, sino el brazo de alguien. No era mi calor lo que ella necesitaba, sino el calor de alguien. Entonces sentía algo rayando en la culpabilidad por ser yo ese alguien

You don't get it, do you? Person A understands Person B because thetime is right for that to happen, not because Person B wants to beunderstood by Person A. (...) it's not a mistake, most people would callthat love, if you think you want to understand me.

Our hands were clasped together for ten seconds at most, but to me it felt more like thirty minutes. When she let go of my hand, I was suddenly lost.

You're wrong. The mind is not like raindrops. It does not fall from the skies, it does not lose itself among other things. If you believe in me at all, then believe this: I promise you I will find it. Everything depends on this." "I believe you," she whispers after a moment. "Please find my mind.

Loving her, and being loved, was the only way I could hold myself together.

And I really wanted to see you, too," she said. "When I couldn’t see you any more, I realized that. It was as clear as if the planets all of a sudden lined up in a row for me. I really need you. You’re a part of me; I’m a part of you.