for the first time I am confronted with the fact that places and people are like things: both made of memories and meaningful to us in the same way: we construct ourselves in our conversations with them.

a city is all about how you look at it

My dear, you are not one person. You have many people in you, and each one can ask only some kinds of questions.

Ever seen a bullet-smashed windscreen? The hole at the center becomes an eye. You see less through it but you gain focus, sharpness. That's how it is -- our wounds become our eyes. Seeing outside becomes seeing inside. Listen.