Lovers are weapons, but love is a wound.

She's beautiful and graceful, and she is very compassionate and loyal when you aren't responsible for the murder of her family.

Maybe it is desperation. Maybe we can't let things fall apart without trying. We can't let go of the people we love.

We accept gods that don't speak to us. We accept gods that would place us in a world filled with injustices and do nothing as we struggle. It's easier than accepting that there's nothing out there at all, and that, in our darkest moments, we are truly alone.

Living in a place like this, she must have learned how to see all the monsters that can hide a person.

So how long do you think it’ll be?” he says. “Before the next hurricane comes along to take you home.” “Can I tell you my biggest fear?” I say. “Yes. Tell me.” “That it will be a very windless four years.

I want to make the world into something better so that he can be okay.