She always seemed a little lost – in her thoughts, or in the world.

When you get a little older, there comes a time when you realise thats whats called happiness consists only of individual lovely moments, those special times that you remember later on.

Obviously, no one suspects men with flowers of evil intentions.

The girl in the red coat would remain the the sweet but sore point in my biography: the promise never kept; the mystery that would always remain a mystery. And yet, I regretted nothing. Someday it would be less painful. Someday my heart would be light again. I had to only let it happen.

Alle Reisen haben eine heimliche Bestimmung, die der Reisende nicht ahnt.

Years don’t mean anything, only what happens in them.

Thats the thing about memories, they can make you sad, even if they are good memories. You like thinking back to them; they’re the greatest treasure we have, and yetis always makes you a little sad because something has irreversibly passed.

Die Luft war mild, und es wurde allmählich Frühling. Und der Frühling löst manchmal die Versprechen ein, die der Winter einem schuldig geblieben ist.

La vita continuava. Continuava sempre. Andava avanti, come una fiaccola passata di mano in mano in una staffetta infinita, finché non raggiungeva la sua destinazione.

Era così facile la vita da bambini. Come poteva quella vita così facile diventare tanto complicata? Sono le mezze verità, le frasi non dette, i sentimenti nascosti e tutte le cose che ognuno tiene per sé a offuscare la magnifica chiarezza dell'infanzia, a disorientarci perché un bel giorno abbiamo capito che nella vita non esiste un'unica verità?