Because I love you.' It was easy to say it this time now that I understood what it meant. Then I quoted his own words back to him. 'Not just when it's easy. All the time.

I always have someplace else I’d rather be, even if I don’t know where that is, yet.

I’m sick of asking questions everyone else already knows the answers to.

They say funerals are not for the dead but for the living. Those rites are what permit you to move on, so if you don't deal with the remains, you can never deal with the memories. That might be true; we may have walked in their dust down on Venice Minor, but it's not the same as a proper good-bye.

He'd said the sun could burn me. It certainly looked angry enough, all orange and glowing mad.

I shake my head, but I can’t change this. I can only bear the scars, as I have always done, as I ever do.

Survival feels like cowardice.