She wants to tell him things. But it’s too late now, and anyway it has never done her any good to tell anyone.

No one can be independent of other people completely, so why not give up the attempt, she thought, go running in the other direction, depend on people for everything, allow them to depend on you, why not.

Even in a memory she will find this moment unbearably intense, and she's aware of this now, while it's happening.

His appearance is like a favourite piece of music to her, sounding a little different each time she hears it.

And feeling a strange sense of nostalgia for a moment that was already in the process of happening.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, says Marianne. I don’t know why I can’t be like normal people.

Marianne, he said, I’m not a religious person but I do sometimes think God made you for me.

Even in a memory she will find this moment unbearably intense, and she's aware of this now, while it's happening.

Well, I don’t feel lovable. I think I have an unlovable sort of… I have a coldness about me, I’m difficult to like.