“I'm broken too. I think... I think we can fix each other.”

“I can't walk away from you. I tried. I can't do it. Even as I was trying, I knew it was stupid. I already knew I wasn't really going anywhere. God, Hope. I care about you. I don't want to walk away." I coil my fingers in between her braids and twists, holding her head to my chest. "I'm broken, too. I think..." I lick my lips and press them into her hair. "I think we can fix each other.”

“We were both broken, trying to become unbroken. Maybe we just needed a little help. Not to fix each other, but to help us fix ourselves.”

“The only excuse I can think of is the truth – she’s broken. Until someone can figure out how to fix her, what else can she do?”

“I think the best evenings are when we have messages, things that make us think, but we can also laugh and enjoy each other's company. ”

“Here I'd been thinking that just because someone spoke English we'd understand each other. But I guess there are languages within languages, and those can be foreign, too, even when you think you're understanding each other.”