Everywhere she looks, she has the feeling people are enjoying themselves more than her.

She likes knowing about other people's lives, why they made certain choices. It makes her feel she might one day be more in charge of herself, that she might live a larger life. She wants someone to show her exactly how to live, to take her dercisions from her hands and sort everything out for her in a matter of fact kind of way.

Now, he sees love as something not made for him, some abstract thing like the shape of something at the top of a farway hill, lovely but never to be fully grasped.

Life's to short. People say it all the time. It's not short; it's damn long. Especially if you don't have someone to talk to. And it makes you tired.

Her life seems little and ordinary. It seems to always be Monday morning, she is always tired. Lately, she finds it hard to be enthusiastic about anything.

I've always had this feeling that nothing particularly importaint or exciting is going to happen to me, I've always known. That nothing will ever really be as good as imagining how good things could be.