The more the heart is sated with joy, the more it becomes insatiable.
Peace has been as bad as war. Peace has killed as many people as war. Peace is as bad. Peace is as bad…
Florentine was now no more than a bright patch on the platform. He managed to see her take out her compact and wipe away the few traces of her tears. He closed his eyes and, as if he were already very far away, cherished that image of Florentine and her powder puff. Then he searched the crowd one last time for her thin, small face and her burning eyes. But she had already turned her back to leave before the train was out of sight.