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“I happen to know what it’s like to ‘deal’ with death all by yourself. Just you and nothing else but the big empty of where everything used to be.
They can kill us, even down to the last of us, but they can’t kill—can never kill—what lasts in us.
He wasn’t going to find a way around the pain. He would have to find a way through it.
If there was any hope left, it lay in love’s hopeless promises.
None of it made sense. Falling in love with me might be like me falling in love with a cockroach, but what do you call my reaction to him? What’s that called?
no debt is ever fully repaid, not really, not the ones that really matter.
That’s a terrible thing, an awful burden to put on someone. You make your whole existence dependent on another human being and you’re asking for a world of trouble. Think of every tragic love story ever written.
Vincit qui patitur.
My anger is greater than the sum of all lost things.
It isn’t that the lies are too beautiful to resist. It’s that the truth is too hideous to face.
I built a fortress safe and strong to last a thousand years. A mighty stronghold that crumbles with a kiss.
where darkness dwells, profound as the grave.
I am imprisoned by a promise more binding than a thousand chains.
