“There are quiet ways to die where the body just doesn’t notice that the heart is gone.”

“His wide mouth falls into amused lines. “Everything dies. There’s no way to stop that tide. In the end, all we have is the pleasure we take from life. For my people, it’s not long. I can spend my time crying or I can live . I can seek wonder. Haven’t you ever noticed that people tend to find what they’re looking for, my friend?”

“There were different kinds of strength. I knew that now. It didn't always come from a knife or a willingness to fight. Sometimes it came from endurance, where the well ran deep and quiet. Sometimes it came from compassion and forgiveness.”

“He doesn’t have the words, so he does practical things instead.”

“I don't believe in love at all," he returns, equally quiet. "It's just a name people give the endorphins that spring up after some really hot fucking, and the justification they use to manipulate the shit out of each other afterward.”

“For I need this scar over my heart to remind me. Crazy as it sounds, if I can bear the wound on my body, it lessens what I must carry on my soul. How he knew that about me, I cannot fathom.”

“After people have gone, you forget their faults, and you recall the ideal more than the person.”