“Leave it all in the Hands that were wounded for you”

“If a wound was all that was required to be a shaman, we'd all be one. If wounds were required, no one would be.”

“So you planned this? The whole time we were together, you were scheming some way to screw up royally so I'd leave you alone?" "No, Luce," he said, grabbing my hand back. "So I'd leave you alone.”

“When life leaves you broken, wounded, and shattered, hope will give you strength to face another day.”

“We all miss you so much. It just never ends. It feels like we were all wounded in your battle, Caroline. I miss you. I love you.”

“He had strong, steady hands, and I could tell from looking at them there was little he couldn't do. Mossy always said you could tell everything you needed to know about a man from his hands. Some hands, she told me, were leaving hands. They were the wandering sort that slipped into places they shouldn't, and they would wander right off again because those hands just couldn't stay still. Some hands were worthless hands, fit only to hold a drink or flick ash from a cigar, and some were punishing hands that hit hard and didn't leave a mark and those were the ones you never stayed to see twice.But the best hands were knowing hands, Mossy told me with a slow smile. Knowing hands were capable; they could soothe a horse or woman. They could take things apart -- including your heart -- and put them back together better than before. Knowing hands were rare, but if you found them, they were worth holding, at least for a little while.”