BEFORE MIDNIGHT

Anything, so ephemeral. It's just like our life, we appear and we

Like sunlight, sunset,
disappear. We are so important to some, but we are just passing through.

But i also know that you love me. And i'm okay with you being a complicated human being. I
don't want to live a boring life, where two people own each other, where two people are
institutionalized in a box that others created because that is a bunch of stifling bullshit.

I wish you would find the time. You somehow manage to find the time to complain about 8 hours
a day.

Women explore for eternity in the vast garden of sacrifice.

You're just like the little girls and everybody else. You wanna live inside some fairy tale. I'm just trying
to make things better. I tell you that I love you unconditionally, I tell you that you're beautiful, 

“Remember that yours is not the only heart that may be wishing for love.” 

But lately I’ve been forgetting little things, it’s sort of fading, and I’m starting
to forget him. And it’s like…like losing him again. So sometimes I make myself
remember every detail of his face the exact color of his eyes, his lips, his
teeth. The texture of his skin, his hair. That was all gone by the time he
went. And sometimes… not always, but sometimes, I can actually see him.
I believe if there’s any kind of God, it wouldn’t be in any of us — not you or me — but just this little space
in between. If there’s any kind of magic in this world, it must be in the attempt of understanding someone,
sharing something.” 

"Did you ever keep a journal when you were a kid? It's funny, I read one of mine from '83 the other day,
and what really surprised me is I was dealing with life the same way I am now. I was much more naive and
hopeful, but the core and the way I was feeling things was exactly the same."

"I guess when you're young you you just believe there's be many people with whom you connect ... Later in
life, you realize it only happens a few times." 

If there's any kind of magic in this world, it must be in the attempt of understanding someone, sharing
something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed, but... who cares, really? The answer must be in the
attempt.

I don't know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know,
that's what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I'll just be glad when
something nice happens.

You know what's the worst thing about somebody breaking up with you? Is when you remember how
little you thought about the people you broke up with and you realize that is how little they're thinking
of you. You know, you'd like to think you're both in all this pain but they're just like 'Hey, I'm glad you're
gone'.

Isn't everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more?

When you talked earlier about after a few years how a couple would begin to hate each other by
anticipating their reactions or getting tired of their mannerisms-I think it would be the opposite for
me. I think I can really fall in love when I know everything about someone-the way he's going to part
his hair, which shirt he's going to wear that day, knowing the exact story he'd tell in a given situation.
I'm sure that's when I know I'm really in love.

I kind of see this all love as this, escape for two people who don't know how to be alone. People
always talk about how love is this totally unselfish, giving thing, but if you think about it, there's
nothing more selfish.

“I feel that life is divided into the horrible and the miserable. That's the two categories. The horrible are like, I
don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's
amazing to me. And the miserable is everyone else. So you should be thankful that you're miserable, because
that's very lucky, to be miserable.”

that's essentially how I feel about life - full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness,
and it's all over much too quickly. The... the other important joke, for me, is one that's usually
attributed to Groucho Marx; but, I think it appears originally in Freud's "Wit and Its Relation to the
Unconscious," and it goes like this - I'm paraphrasing - um, "I would never want to belong to any club
that would have someone like me for a member." That's the key joke of my adult life, in terms of my
relationships with women.

A relationship, I think, is like a shark. You know? It has to constantly move forward or it dies. And I
think what we got on our hands is a dead shark.