Because it takes more courage to heal the world's hurts than to inflict them.

My skill didn't lie in planning battles, only in fighting them.

You don’t know what it’s like to be alone until you’ve had someone inside your head.

So I make no effort to hide my pain. I don’t ever put it all on display like this—but for today and all the rest of the days of the trial, I must. My every flinch, every flicker of pain, will be magnified a hundred times over, then dissected by the pundits and talking heads. But I’m told it’s necessary; the world needs to see me vulnerable and wounded. I cannot appear not to care or to lack remorse, but that removes a crucial component of my self- defense mechanism and leaves me bleeding for all the world to see. I suppose that’s rather the point.

For peace to take hold, one person must first stop fighting.

There’s a hollow where he used to be, and it echoes with self-imposed loss.

Sometimes when you meet someone, there’s a click. I don’t believe in love at first sight but I believe in that click. Recognition.