... Part of me aches at the thought of her being so close yet so untouchable, but her story and mine are different now. It wasn't easy for me to accept this simple truth, because there was a time when our stories were the same... There are memories for both of us, of course, but I've learned that memories can have a physical, almost living presence, and in this, Savannah and I are different as well. If hers are stars in the nighttime sky, mine are the haunted empty spaces in beetween. And unlike her, I've been burdened by questions I've asked myself a thousand times since the last time we were together. Why did I do it? And would I do it again?

... "He sounds interesting. I've always loved people who have this... passion for life".
"It's passion for coins, not for life".
"It's the same thing. Passion is passion. It's the excitement between the tedious spaces, and it doesn't matter where it's directed. It can be coins or sports or politics or horses or music or faith... the saddest people I've ever met in life are the ones who don't care deeply about anything at all. Passion and satisfaction go hand in hand, and without them, any happines is only temporary, because there's nothing to make it last. I'd love to hear your dad talk about coins, because that's when you see a person at his best, and I've found that someone else's happines is usually infectious".

@темы: Nicholas Sparks "Dear John", (c)