Keep hoping to see the light in her eyes. Even knowing it'll mean she's saying good-bye.

The only reality you can control is the one you're willing to face.

Home, Ms. Lane?” His deep voice was gently amused. “I have to call it something,” I said morosely. “They say home is where the heart is. I think mine’s satin-lined and six feet under.

Dude, the bush is ready. Why you still beating around it?” “I’ve lived a long time, kid, and I’ve never heard anyone mutilate the English language quite like you.

He'd surely been spawned by some cataclysmic event of nature, not born.

It's not my fault who I am. The only think that's my fault is what I choose to do

We are not perfect. What god is Examine yours. According to your mythos he was so disappointed with his initial efforts creating your race that he tried again. At least we imprisoned our mistakes. Your god permits his to roam free. At a mere few thousand years old your creation myths are far more absurd than ours.