Whenever she felt like crying, she would instead become angry—at someone else or at herself—which meant that it was rare for her to shed tears.

In his own way, he's lived life with all the intensity he could muster.

Chance encounters are what keep us going.

While they're still alive, people can become ghosts.

We knew exactly what we wanted in each other. And even so, it ended. One day it stopped, as if the film simply slipped off the reel.

This was never any place I was meant to be. This isn’t a place for me.

Myths are the prototype for all stories. When we write a story on our own it can't help but link up with all sorts of myths. Myths are like a reservoir containing every story there is.