It was one thing to make a mistake; it was another thing to keep making it. I knew what happened when you let yourself get close to someone, when you started to believe they loved you: you'd be disappointed. Depend on someone, and you might as well admit you're going to be crushed, because when you really needed them, they wouldn't be there. Either that, or you'd confide in them and you added to their problems. All you ever really had was yourself, and that sort of sucked if you were less than reliable.

Well I talk a little about that, but I don't admit that from the beginning I knew we were not meant to be together.

There are some things, I think, you're btter off not remembering.

The truth was, history repeated itself on a daily basis; mistakes were made over and over. People were haunted by what they had done, and by what they hadn't had time to do.

Jacob's room is the place entropy goes to die.

Me, I was already jaded and tarnished, skeptical that a fantasy world could keep reality at bay.

Your hand fits mine like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle