“I imagined what it would be like to hold a butterfly in your hands something bejeweled and treasured and to know that despite your devotion it was dying by degrees.”

“Holding Eleanor's hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive.”

“We know it's all just daydreaming... But sometimes, it'd be nice just to hold something real in your hands that felt like a measure of your worth.”

“We know it's all just daydreaming...But sometimes, it'd be nice just to hold something real in your hands that felt like a measure of your worth.”

“"I don't know; Killers are sort of romantic. Imagine your dying with his hands around his throat. He'd strangle the life out of you, and the last thing you would see would be his face."”

“The sun shines through the windowAnd the sun shines through your hairIt seems like you're beside meBut I know that you're not there.You would sit beside this windowRun your fingers through my hairYou were always there beside meBut I know that you're not thereOh, to be by your side once againOh, to hold your hand in mine againOh, to be by your side once againOh, to hold your hand in mine again-”