“Sorrow isn't the absence of passion. Sorrow is the darkest, most intense form of passion hidden in the recesses of the soul.”

“Sorrow is the darkest, most intense form of passion hidden in the recesses of the human spirit.”

“He fills my thoughts, my dreams, and my nightmares. The memory of him, and his touch, pound on the door to my soul with such force that cracks are forming in the wood. I do my best to act like no one is home by keeping the door locked and the lights off.”

“Guilt is intense. Suffocating. A brick, tied quietly around your ankles while you sleep. You never fall slowly into guilt-you wake up with little time to take your last breath before being pulled under.”

“They took his soul over there, fuckers, and left me with the breathing carcass.”

“His body came home, but his soul had been devoured in the firefight of a godless desert.”

“My heart searches for an escape. We're outside, so anywhere will do, but my soul roots her feet in place. I'm not going anywhere.”