“Sting told me if I love somebody I should set them free.I doubt Sting ever loved anyone with wings. If he did he might rethink such a stupid sentiment.I suppose the point is to wait for your love to come back to you voluntarily.I wonder if there’s a difference between setting something free and letting it go?I probably did it wrong.I should stop taking advice from my radio.I worry that you’re lost.I keep a heart-shaped cage unlocked for you, out on the street where it can easily be seen.So if one day you return at least you’ll have a place to stay.”

“I worry hope will crush me, the way love has so many times before.Are they so different, hope and love? O & E in the same place, half of the other in each word.Both swimming in unknowns.I’ve been through the big changes. These ones should seem easier in comparison, I should be more prepared, but they don’t and I’m not.Sometimes I feel like a broken-wing butterfly, clinging to a window screen.Afraid to let go. Afraid to stay.Wondering how much wing is enough to fly.”

“Celia, wait,” Marco says, standing but not moving closer to her. “You are breaking my heart. You told me once that I reminded you of your father. That you never wanted to suffer the way your mother did for him, but you are doing exactly that to me. You keep leaving me. You leave me longing for you again and again when I would give anything for you to stay, and it is killing me.” “It has to kill one of us,” Celia says quietly.”

“I cannot let a place that is so important to so many people fade away. Something that is wonder and comfort and mystery all together that they have nowhere else. If you had that, wouldn't you want to keep it?”

“You send me all these roses.Every time I think the last bouquet has arrived, finally, another turns up.I’m running out of vases.I didn’t know roses came in so many colors.You say they’re the perfect symbols of love because they have thorns and love is pain.I say life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.And you don’t get it.You say you love me, but you don’t speak my language.You don’t even realize I’m an orchid girl.”

“I suggest you keep your distance from her and concentrate on your own work.” “I’m in love with her.”“I am sorry to hear that,” he says. “It will make the challenge a great deal more difficult for you.”“We have been playing at this for more than a decade, when does it end?”“It ends when there is a victor.”

“I have tried to let you go and I cannot. I cannot stop thinking of you. I cannot stop dreaming about you.”