Could words and symbols wield such power? Could mere scribblings on parchment unmake a person's moral fiber? Weren't we made of sterner stuff?
There are three floors beneath the garage? Why on earth?" -Mac
How could they let me grow up like that—happy and pink and stupid?
The nerve. Threatening you and not being precise about it.
The only reality you can control is the one you're willing to face.
I am going to love you now, slow and sweet.