The Memory of Running

Good people protect people they love even if that means that pretending that everything is okay.

Good books that often I would hate to finish because they took me into their lives and let me out of mine, for a while anyway.

You have to learn to look at someone you truly adore through eyes that really aren´t your own. It´s as if a person has to become another person altogether to be able to take a hard look. Good people protect people they love, even if that means pretending that everything is okay.

...life is a funny thing. We go through ups and downs, winters and summers, but somewhere, sometimes, it's good.

Money is nice. I don´t mean it´s wonderful like a river or anything; and, as they say, it can´t buy happiness, but it´s comfortable in your pockets

Maybe it´s because we all sat together for a while and concentrated on exactly the same thing. That could be it. Like how everybody becomes one person for a little bit and how the tiniest thing affects everybody in almost the exact same way

I think that when a somebody dies, there ought to be a process where everything about them, like bills and taxes, stops. They don´t even slow down. As a matter of fact, they seem to come quicker and louder.

I shouted for no reason other than trying to shout out a bad feeling I had. A certain kind of lonely feeling. A feeling that embarrassed me

The longer you wait and put off the nice things you should do on a regular basis, the harder it is to do them, until finally you have to force yourself to be nice, to be thoughtful, and it isn’t easy, because you’re embarrassed about not having done those easy, nice things in a natural kind of way. Also, the people who you’re nice to come to expect your regular niceness. That’s it in a nutshell.

Die unglaubliche Reise des Smithy Ide – Ron McLarty Lieblingszitat: “Lieber Smithy, das hier ist mein Brief an dich, aber ich werde ihn nicht abschicken. Ich schreibe am Fenster in meinem Zimmer, und das Fenster ist offen. Der Ahorn draußen in unserem Garten raschelt, und ich lasse es vom Wind zu dir tragen, denn er kann das, und ich glaube wirklich, dass Worte fliegen können.” S. 249

I don't like to touch, and I don't like to be touched.

There’s too much history to tell, really, about all of us and how we’d do things like hike and how she loved that I ran so much.