“Heartache, Daphne eventually learned, never really went away; it just dulled. The sharp, stabbing pain that one felt with each breath eventually gave way to a blunter, lower ache—the kind that one could almost—but never quite—ignore.”

“He had never seen a gunshot wound. He kept asking what it felt like? dull or sharp? an ache or burn? My head was spinning and naturally I could give him no kind of coherent answer but I remember thinking dimly that it was sort of like the first time I got drunk, or slept with a girl; not quite what one expected, really, but once it happened one realized it couldn't be any other way. Neon lights: Motel 6, Dairy Queen. Colors so bright, they nearly broke my heart.”

“Everything that could happen, but it never happened, eventually was taken away by the wind and leaves no trace.The life - this is our actions.”

“I had to accept the fact that bad things happen. It’s out of our control and I know it hurts like hell but you learn to move on. Yes, the pain never fades and it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do but eventually you learn to breathe again.”

“One last breath. We all have to take one eventually. It was over.”

“Later, when his father left him, the boy cried over his pet, until eventually his father sent a servant to take the body of the bird away and bury it. The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he'd learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.”