“I actually wanted to drive a stake through your heart when you first came here, all silent and moody. But you're not so bad, after all.”

“But to mean it when I say that I want my life to count for His glory is to drive a stake through the heart of self - a painful and determined dying to me that must be a part of every day I live.”

“They have no mercy on that here or infanticide. Refuse christian burial. They used to drive a stake of wood through his heart in the grave. As if it wasn't broken already.”

“I want karma to drive stakes into the dark hearts that keep me bitter.”

“I want you to know I want to be part of your life. All of it. I want to make you cry with happiness and I want to be here to wipe away the same tears when you're sad.”

“I am as silent as death.Do this: Go to your bedroom. Your nice, safe, warm bedroom that is not a glass coffin behind a morgue door. Lie down on your bed not made of ice. Stick your fingers in your ears. Do you hear that? The pulse of life from your heart, the slow in-and-out from your lungs? Even when you are silent, even when you block out all noise, your body is still a cacophony of life. Mine is not. It is the silence that drives me mad. The silence that drives the nightmares to me.Because what if I am dead?”