“The walls were coming down around me, but still, I couldn't imagine telling the truth. Not now. It was too late. How can I tell Mom and Dad what we'd done? It would ruin everything. It would ruin their image of me; it would ruin every thought they'd ever had about who I was. It would be another death.Another loss. Another miscarriage.”
“I turned away from his grip, ashamed that I couldn’t tell him the truth. I was the one that wasn’t good enough. I would be the one to ruin everything; to ruin him. He would hate me one day, and I couldn’t see the look in his eye when he came to that conclusion.”
“Imagine there was a cure, but finding it would cost you everything. It would completely ruin your life. What would you do?”
“How can I discover truth I thought and that thought led me nowhere. No one would tell me the truth.”
“I don't think I've ever dared to write down what I see in the ruins of me, or tell in any detail the scars and all their secrets.”
“That would be just like me-ruin everything, destroy the world, in a moment of klutziness.”