Lovers are weapons, but love is a wound.

He kissed back, all the pages spread out around us like riddles waiting to be solved. Let them wait. Let my genes unravel, my hinges come loose. If my fate rests in the hands of a madman, let death come and bring its worse. I'll take the ruined craters of laboratories, the dead trees, this city with ashes in the oxygen, if it means freedom. I'd sooner die here than live a hundred years with wires in my veins.

But I know all the things you're too sweet to know.

Did you tell freedom hello for me?

The thing about hope is that it doesn't go away even when it serves no purpose.

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.

You’re insane, you know that?” he says. “It’s the only thing keeping me afloat,” I say.