“Five hundred souls. I carried them in my fingers, like suitcases. Or I'd throw them over my shoulder. It was only the the children I carried in my arms. ”

“But that's how it is when you start wanting to have things. Now, I just look at them, and when I go away I carry them in my head. Then my hands are always free, because I don't have to carry a suitcase.”

“I tell them I can handle my own stuff, but it's like a mark of pride or something. I'm surprised Blake doesn't just hoist me over his shoulder and try to carry me too!”

“I regret I didn't wear a jacket, or I'd give it to you.""I still have my wings. It wouldn't fit.""I'd carry them for you.""They're attached to the dress. It was the only way I could get them to stay."He squeezed my hand, tone mischievous. "In that case, I'd be especially happy to carry the wings.""Sam!""It wouldn't be the first time I've seen you without clothes.""Sam!”

“I could introduce myself properly, but it's not really necessary. You will know me well enough and soon enough, depending on a diverse range of variables. It suffices to say that at some point in time, I will be standing over you, as genially as possible. Your soul will be in my arms. A color will be perched on my shoulder. I will carry you gently away.”

“Her warm memories. I'd like to paint them over the bare plaster walls of my soul, but everything I paint seems to peel.”