“His hand is cool on my cheek as he paints a tear beneath my left eye, dark blue and swollen with sorrow.”

“On the left side of my cheek a row of crusted scabbed stitches hold a deep 1 inch-long gash together. My nose is bent and swollen beneath its bandage and red lines streak from my nostrils. There are black and yellow bruises beneath both eyes, there is blood both wet and dry everywhere." (James Frey)”

“Shared joy is double joy," he said brushing a tear from my cheek, "and shared sorrow is half the sorrow.”

“His eyes were open wounds beneath his heavy brows, a blue as dark as the sea by night.”

“His voice is like a thunderstorm, and his hands know every secret hidden deep beneath the cool, dark earth.”

“I took his hand and pressed it hard. I could not bear to look at him any longer, so I closed my eyes and put his hand against my cheek. I cried with him. I felt his fingers grow wet with my tears, but I kept his hand there.”