Celia, wait,” Marco says, standing but not moving closer to her. “You are breaking my heart. You told me once that I reminded you of your father. That you never wanted to suffer the way your mother did for him, but you are doing exactly that to me. You keep leaving me. You leave me longing for you again and again when I would give anything for you to stay, and it is killing me.” “It has to kill one of us,” Celia says quietly.

Though I have seen a great deal of the sights, traveled a number of the available paths, there are always corners that remain unexplored, doors that remain unopened.

"I am already married," she remarks to the empty air, twisting the ring on her right hand that covers an sold, distinctive scar.

The circus itself is my personal ideal entertainment venue.

I'm an emotional sort of person in general and I have a vivid imagination, so I feel the whole spectrum of emotion strongly when I write.

You believe you could not live with the pain. Such pain is not lived with. It is only endured. I am sorry.

I have been surrounded by love letters you two have built each other for years, encased in tents.