“If it’s zero degrees outside today and it’s supposed to be twice as cold tomorrow, how cold is it going to be?”

“I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day; when it’s cold outside I’ve got the month of May.”

“No, and if it’s not your brain thinking cold, cold thoughts, which you can dress in any kind of mood, then it’s nothing. It has to be a cold, cold thought. I mean cold, or cool at least. Your brain. That’s all there is.”

“20 minutes later: a girl on Himmel Street. She looks up. She speaks in whisper. ‘The sky is soft today, Max. The clouds are so soft and sad, and…’ She looks away and crosses her arms. She thinks of her papa going to war and grabs her jacket at each side of her body. ‘And it’s cold, Max. It’s so cold…”

“It’s not always about tomorrow and the day after that—what we achieve over the years and how we leave the world. Sometimes it’s about today.”

“I can’t exactly describe how I feel but it’s not quite right. And it leaves me cold.”