“You're wrong. The mind is not like raindrops. It does not fall from the skies, it does not lose itself among other things. If you believe in me at all, then believe this: I promise you I will find it. Everything depends on this." "I believe you," she whispers after a moment. "Please find my mind.”

“Do you really think you can read out my mind?" she asks me, face to face."I think so," I say, wishing to convince myself. "There has to be a way.""It is like looking for lost drops of rain in a river.""You're wrong. The mind is not like raindrops. It does not lose itself among other things. If you believe in me at all, than believe this: I promise you I will find it. Everything depends on this.""I believe you," she whispers after a moment. "Please find my mind.”

“I've never met a girl who thinks like you.""A lot of people tell me that," she said, digging at a cuticle. "But it's the only way I know how to think. Seriously. I'm just telling you what I believe. It's never crossed my mind that my way of thinking is different from other people's. I'm not trying to be different. But when I speak out honestly, everybody thinks I'm kidding or playacting. When that happens, I feel like everything is such a pain!”

“Think it over carefully. This is very important," I say, "because to believe something, whatever it might be, is the doing of the mind. Do you follow? When you say you believe, you allow the possibility of disappointment. And from disappointment or betrayal, there may come despair. Such is the way of the mind.”

“You must not let fatigue set in," she warns. "That is what my mother said. Let your body work until it is spent, but keep your mind for yourself.""Good advice.""To tell the truth, I do not know this thing called 'mind', what it does or how to use it. It is only a word I have heard.""The mind is nothing you use," I say. "The mind is just there. It is like the wind. You simply feel its movements.”

“Most of these university types are total phonies. They’re scared to death somebody’s gonna find they don’t know something. They all read the same books and they all throw around the same words, and they get off listening to John Coltrane and seeing Pasolini movies. You call that ‘revolution’? That does it for me, then. I’m not going to believe in any damned revolution. Love is all I’m going to believe in.”

“I want to believe you, but if that's true, I just don't get it. Why does loving somebody mean you have to hurt them just as much? I mean, if that's the way it goes, what's the point of loving someone?”