“The slick concrete reflected the facades of the work weary - grey, cracked and old,but more importantly, trodden upon.”

“...when evening fell and the grey twilight spread its dusky robe upon the waters, she stretched her arms out to the silent river that had known her sorrow and her joy. And the old river had taken her into its gentle arms, and had laid her weary head upon its bosom, and had hushed away the pain.”

“The dark is a place of reflection for the weary”

“Dreams are deformed reflections of ourselves - less stable and more ungraspable than we are, upon which we in our turn assume the right to reflect upon and to determine.”

“Most people don't have facades," Natalie said drily. "Oh everyone thinks they do, but when you dig below the facade, there is only more facade.”

“My dear sister, you can’t escape God, and you can’t escape your skeletons in the closet. They will always be there until you take them out from behind those dusty old moth-eaten coats. Your exterior facade of ‘everything is alright’ only works for a little while, and then the cracks begin to show. You can only hide behind yourself for so long. You can’t keep running!”