Kindle Notes & Highlights
But guilt wasn’t rational. It twisted in my gut, forming a knot of unsettling emotions that grew and grew and grew until there was no more room for rationality.
“Yeah, well, there are no checkpoints in real life. We make choices. Things happen. People die. We live with the consequences of our actions, regardless of whether those actions caused their deaths. We live, because they can’t. We do something with our lives, because they can’t.”
“There is the stone, which directs the course of the water with its rigid strength. And there is the water, which slowly, subtly wears away the stone, forging its own path and forever altering the stone, while the stone is helpless against the change.”
The human mind was remarkable when it came to believing in the reality it wished was true, however unlikely that reality might actually be.
Maybe the road to hell was paved with good intentions, but you know what other roads were paved with good intentions? The road to not dying at the hands of the soulless
I wanted to fight. To suffer. To feel pain and anger and loss and everything that sucked about being alive, because the good things—love and joy and hope—far outweighed the bad.
