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secrets begin as pebbles and grow into boulders. Yet still we would rather carry them around than give them to another for safekeeping.”
For it's not the loss that undoes us in the end, I realized. It's the regret, for words unspoken, small kindnesses withheld.
mountains dream. But a single dream may last a thousand years.”
I'd been so afraid he would see me as I saw myself: maimed, broken. A creature worthy of pity, nothing more. But he still wanted me, very much. I could feel it.
How easy it is to commit savagery when good people turn their eyes away.
