“The heart is a mystical thing. It keeps us alive by pumping blood to every part of our body. It is a strong organ which scientists say has no memory. But the heart is also a thing of great speculation and power; spoken, written, and even put into songs, by many great authors, singers, actors and poets around the world. The heart is supposed to be the center of love, feeling, loneliness and heartbreak.And it was that organ, that great red Valentine's Day sought-after-object that was at present causing me trouble”

“Memory is a part of the present. It builds us up inside; it knits our bones to our muscles and keeps our hearts pumping. It is memory that reminds our bodies to work, and memory that reminds our spirits to work to: it keeps us who we are.~Candle”

“The heart can't lead anything. It has to stay inside your chest and pump blood to your body, mostly because it's just an organ in your body. In other words, if your heart is leading you, it's outside your body, and you're most likely dead.Also, that thing has absolutely no navigational skills, no GPS, and no wilderness mapping training. The heart also has no mouth (almost positive) - so it can't say anything for you to listen to. So what these kinds of sayings really mean is "trust your pulmonary system," and that's really dumb advice for relationships.”

“‎"Your heart is in your chest. It supplies the blood to your cells. Even if you don't think about it, your heart is always pumping. The heart is the most important organ in the body. Without it, you will die."'What grade are you teaching these days?' Joel asked. ' Because either this is really sad...or really profound.”

“Our hospital was famous and housed many great poets and singers. Did the hospital specialize in poets and singers or was it that poets and singers specialized in madness?”

“Love hasn't got anything to do with the heart, the heart's a disgusting organ, a sort of pump full of blood. Love is primarily concerned with the lungs. People shouldn't say "she's broken my heart" but "she's stifled my lungs." Lungs are the most romantic organs: lovers and artists always contract tuberculosis. It's not a coincidence that Chekhov, Kafka, D.H. Lawrence, Chopin, George Orwell and St Thérèse of Lisieux all died of it; as for Camus, Moravia, Boudard and Katherine Mansfield, would they have written the same books if it werent for TB?”