distance

I love you more than my own skin.

I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best.

I leave you my portrait so that you will have my presence all the days and nights that I am away from you.

In general people experience their present naively, as it were, without being able to form an estimate of its contents; they have first to put themselves at a distance from it - the present, that is to say, must have become the past - before it can yield points of vantage from which to judge the future. 

It is not how old you are, but how you are old.

Where there is love, distance doesn't matter.

I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. Such is life, imaginary or otherwise: a continuous parting of ways, a constant flux of approximation and distanciation, lines of fate intersecting at a point which is no-time, a theoretical crossroads fictitiously “present,” an unstable ice floe forever drifting between was and will be. The Adventure called and I followed with my thumb like a character being written by an intractable author. Which, of course, I was.

He nurtures his connection from a distance...The rhythm is fixed in his life now - a support and distraction, the way in which he confirms his most human feelings.

Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue, a wonderful living side by side can grow, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against the sky.

It feels like now we are so much older, and our lives are diverging like those geometry proofs where the two lines never touch, they just keep growing farther apart... This is why I'm crying, the distance from what you feel to what you say, how it will always be like that.