One of the many advantages of being a loner is that often there’s time to think, ponder, brood, meditate deeply, and figure things out to one’s satisfaction.
There’s nothing essentially romantic about things like roses or jewelry. Romance starts as some blank concept, and then you just fill it in with objects so you have something to point to when you want to make it real.
I’ve always believed that if you’re truly in love with someone, you shouldn’t be able to answer the question ‘What do you love about him?’ with any kind of real satisfaction.
Are you in pain?′ I asked, because I know that everything in the world that matters shows up as some kind of pain. Or pang. Joy included.