your letters got sadder. your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all lovers betray. it didn’t help. you said you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and the bridge was over the river and you sat on the crying bench every night and wept for the lovers who had hurt and forgotten you.
— Charles Bukowski, Love is a Dog from Hell (via 13neighbors)
It’s sort of weird if you think about it. We live in a pretty apathetic age, yet we’re surrounded by an enormous amount of information about other people. If you feel like it, you can easily gather that information about them. Having said that, we still hardly know anything about people.
— Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage (via larmoyante)