“if I wait to beperfectbefore I love myselfI will always be unsatisfiedand ungrateful if I wait untilall the flaws, chips,and cracks disappearI will be the cupthat stands on the shelfand is never used”

“I waited for you.""But it's a race. Why did you wait for me?""I always wait for you. I'm always waiting for you.”

“Am I in love? - Yes, since I'm waiting." The other never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn't wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game: whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover's fatal identity is precisely: I am the one who waits.”

“Am I in love? --yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn't wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover's fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits.”

“Since I moved back to Truly," he said, "I've felt as if I were standing in one place, unable to move. But I wasn't standing still. I was waiting. I think I was waiting for you.”

“What he doesn't realize is that I'm already standing at the bottom, waiting to catch him. And I never miss.”