I think I began to feel at home even before she had reached her car. I have grown used to these lightning strikes. I have grown used to the idea that nothing can be put off till tomorrow, that everything has to happen instantly and that, in my few encounters with other people, I always have to convince them that everything needs to be done that

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What do you call a void that sets something in motion? What do you call an eagerness that cannot be ignored? What do you call a search that never stops? I give it names. An urge, a hunger, a longing, a desire, a drive. I call it interest, thirst for knowledge, I think hunger for history and yen for the past, but none of these is quite right. It is

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