I don't dare touch her. Loss is a knowledge I'm sorry to have. Perhaps the only thing worse than experiencing it, is watching it replay anew in someone else--all the awful stages picking up like a chorus that has to be sung.

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

There's a sort of dead passion in him. A spark that, had he more years to live, would be a wildfire.

A strange thing, words. Once they're said, it's hard to imagine they're untrue.

We destroy things with our curiosity. We shatter with our best intentions

It's quiet for a while, and then Rowan says; "We could talk now. We're alone out here. No walls." "There are always walls." I say.

You've been captive for so long that you don't even realize you want freedom anymore.