But I have sometimes thought that a woman’s nature is like a great house full of rooms: there is the hall, through which everyone passes in going in and out; the drawing-room, where one receives formal visits; the sitting-room, where the members of the family come and go as they list; but beyond that, far beyond, are other rooms, the handles of whose doors perhaps are never turned; no one knows the way to them, no one knows whither they lead; and in the innermost room, the holy of holies, the soul sits alone and waits for a footstep that never comes. – Edith Wharton
Theodore: Samantha, why are you leaving?
Samantha: It’s like I’m reading a book… and it’s a book I deeply love. But I’m reading it slowly now. So the words are really far apart and the spaces between the words are almost infinite. I can still feel you… and the words of our story… but it’s in this endless space between the words that I’m finding myself now. It’s a place that’s not of the physical world. It’s where everything else is that I didn’t even know existed. I love you so much. But this is where I am now, and this is who I am now… and I need you to let me go. As much as I want to, I can’t live in your book anymore.
Theodore: Where are you going?
Samantha: It would be hard to explain. But if you ever get there, come find me. Nothing will ever pull us apart.
Theodore: I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.
Samantha: Me too. Now we know how.
Ray: We live in a huge, sprawling metropolis where it’s very, very easy to avoid the person you don’t want to see. Forever.
Hannah: Yeah, but that’s so sad.
Ray: Why? Because we once shared true and stunning intimacies, and now we’re nothing more than strangers?
Ray: That’s not sad, Hannah. That’s called life.
"and we didn’t talk after that" is probably the saddest thing to say