"Sometimes, when the light dims and the shadows grow, it seems to me that I've been walking these streets for years and years without end, a whole century, that I know every tree, every puddle, every house, I walk with my eyes closed; I'm a street now, too, at times empty, at times full, other times light, other times dark; to find your way, you yourself have to become the way (or a street), that is true; but is a street a street if you don't walk through it? Is a candle a candle if it doesn't light up? Is a knife a knife if it doesn't cut? Tell her that you love her very much and you won't do it again."
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