“Sometimes the hardest goodbyes are the ones never said, the ones that always just hang there in the back of the mind like a dark cloud. There's so much to say but no one to say it to because the person you want most to hear it is already gone. That's how he felt. Sorrow, regret, a wound so deep it didn't even bleed. Like a puncture wound, an ache that didn't heal but just hurt. He didn't know if he wanted it to heal. That'd be too much like a final goodbye.”

“Have you ever done something that you were really ashamed of? I mean somehing so bad you felt sick just thinking about it?''Everyone has. Why, what'd you do?''I didn't say goodbye to Mum.''That's not so bad.''Did you say goodbye to your mum before she left?' I'd never asked Martin about this before. I didn't want to hear the answer.'She left before I had a chance.''Oh.''That's what I like about you, Faltrain.You always know just what to say.”

“So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know.”

“Just like there's always time for pain, there's always time for healing.”

“Time's never up", she whispered, not looking at me, but at my canvas. "Just like there's always time for pain, there's always time for healing. Of course there is.”

“He nodded at the sketchpad, still held in Dummy's claw, and it hurt, he didn't even want to think about how much that hurt, like a hole through his chest, another one, because yeah. "I was just going to smooth the pages out, I promise. Not going to, you know, toss it or anything." But he didn't reach for the pad again, message received, loud and clear. Some things, he still wasn't allowed to touch.”

“Some phone calls he doesn't say much and I know he called just to hear my voice. That's all he wants- to hear me tell him about my day, what the surf's like, what work's like. And that's humbling, knowing that your voice can mean so much to another person.”