I have been both lover and beloved, unrequited, dispassionate and quiet around you. And when I am old, when the skin under my eyes stretches to wrap around the things I've seen, what will it mean that I didn't take a chance on you? Didn't get lost in a glance from you? This fragile balance, this delicate palace where one left puts two people on two different paths. But if I hold out my hands to you, it doesn't make it right, it doesn't make it right.
most people lead a life of quiet desperation; break away.
"there's far more to life than making it move faster"