“Fine words! I wonder where you stole them.”

“I can’t even think about words because the sunset stole them all.”

“You're twisting my words.""I think you are doing a fine job of twisting them yourself.”

“Fine," he repeated, and I wondered why it was I kept coming back to this, again and again, a word that you said when someone asked how you were but didn't really care to know the truth.”

“Words were useless. At times, they might sound wonderful, but they let you down the moment you really needed them. You could never find the right words, never, and where would you look for them? The heart is as silent as a fish, however much the tongue tries to give it a voice.”

“The wrong words. They were true a hundred times over, yet they sounded like a lie. Hadn't he always know it? Words were useless. At times they might sound wonderful, but they let you down the moments you really needed them . You could never find the right words, never, and where would you look for them? The heart is a silent as a fish, however much the tongue tries to give it a voice.”