"Hmmm." She props her chin on her fist, and eyes him, twisting her lip ring once again. "Okay. But there are 2 parts to this, they are both very different."
“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things.”
I love her dearly, but I can’t live with her for a day without feeling my whole life is wasting away. — Miss Kenton, The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro