“Things weren’t the same with us, not right away, and maybe not ever. We were growing up. We were still figuring out how to be in each other’s lives without being everything to each other.”

“The important thing was that we were being polite and not saying all the things that were making us unhappy, which was the only way we knew how to love each other.”

“We were each other's rock. But did it make us each other's destiny?”

“We found out a long time ago that we weren’t meant to fall in love with each other. But a part of me still fell in hope with him.”

“They talked quietly, lying on their backs and letting the words float up to the ceiling as though they were talking to themselves. By reason of their calmness they could tell each other everything without shame, without its sounding like a confession. Nor were they surprised at what they found out about each other.”

“Once we dreamt that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.”

“Each of us [the Der Blaue Reiter (Blue Rider) artists] was interested in the work of the other members of our group, much as each of us was also interested in the health and happiness of the others. But we were still far from considering ourselves as a group or a school of art... I don't think we were ever as programmatic in out theories, as competitive or a self-assertive, as some of the modern [art] schools of Paris.”

“How about we give each other everything we can and not blame each other for what we can’t.”

“We weren’t ourselves when we fell in love, and when we became ourselves – surprise! – we were poison. We complete each other in the nastiest, ugliest possible way.”

“As we approached each other, the noise and the students around us melted away and we were utterly alone, passing, smiling, holding each other's eyes, floors and walls gone, two people in a universe of space and stars.”