Aşk duygusu beni alıp götürüyor ,mutlu ediyor. Ama aynı zamanda da yakıyor, bana acı veriyor, tüm imkansız aşkların acı verdiği gibi.
Çünkü bu imkansızlığın keskin bir biçimde bilincindeyim.
I don’t know that youth doesn’t last, that it’s only a moment, and then it disappears and by the time you finally realize it, it’s too late. It’s finished, vanished, lost.
But the deceased did not grant them the grace of such a letter. He left without relieving them of their bad conscience. Did he want to punish them? Or did he simply hold on to this fundamental truth: that in the end, death is only a matter between you and yourself?
I ask if Thomas still lives in the same place, surprising myself by my indiscretion. The son confirms: Obviously! Could you see him living anywhere else? My father is one of those guys who’ll never leave, who will die where they were born.