“I leaned over the sink, closer to my reflection, and stare at myself hard. I don't know what I see. I don't even know what I want to see.”
“In these times I don't, in a manner of speaking, know what I want; perhaps I don't want what I know and want what I don't know.”
“I don't know what I want, but I know what I don't want”
“What I want." I slid my hands over him until cloth folded between my fingers. "I don't even know what that is. It feels like too much, but I'll fall apart if I don't get it.”
“I don't know myself. I don't know what I want or how I feel or how I should feeland I don't think I ever really have.”
“As you see, it is not that I don't know my own mind, I know it very well but only up to a certain point in the matter. I know perfectly well what the question is. It's the answer I want. ”