“Christmas garland and a rock?" he said, a smile in his voice. "Why not an ornament?""Wolves aren't fragile," I told him. "And they're... stubbon and hard to move.”

“The man slips along the stoically congealed houses Perpendicular like them A moving ornament Burning fiction His fragility contradicts the duration of his torments”

“I love you," he said, his voice almost musical with happiness.She shot him a scowl. "Isn't saying that a bit dangerous considering these aren't wooden swords and the ends aren't even taped?"He laughed.”

“So you're always honest," I said."Aren't you?""No," I told him. "I'm not.""Well, that's good to know, I guess.""I'm not saying I'm a liar," I told him. He raised his eyebrows. "That's not how I meant it, anyways.""How'd you mean it, then?""I just...I don't always say what I feel.""Why not?""Because the truth sometimes hurts," I said."Yeah," he said. "So do lies, though.”

“His grandfather had often told him that he tried too hard to move trees when a wiser man would walk around them.”

“Some things aren't meant for this world. They're too fragile, and life breaks them.”