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.

But there’s no such thing as free. There are only different and more horrible ways to be enslaved.

Even things that aren't broken can be fixed.

Vaughn is talking about the heat, and his voice is so excited that it breaks into whispers at times. He loves his madness the way a bird loves the sky.

There is a silence so great that I can hear the ice crystals cracking and falling from eyelashes of girls who will never blink again.

It's never right to give up on someone.

Kettle thingies. Yum.