In Greek tragedy, they fall from great heights. In noir, they fall from the curb.
Which would be worse - to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?
Grief, he said, is carnivorous.
We were supposed to grow old together, Dolores. Have kids. Take walks under old trees. I wanted to watch the lines etch themselves into your flesh and know when each and every one of them appeared. Die together.
There are threads in our lives. You pull one, and everything else gets affected.
What molds us is what maims us.