It's best to let her go," he says. No, no, that's wrong. It's never right to give up on someone.

The madness of youth made me unafraid.

His three wives are huddled together on the bare mattress, one of them dying; when we're together, we form an alliance he can't touch. He's scared to even try.

When I am writing anything in general, I just want to tell the story that exists in my head; I don't try to write a parable or make a point.

Eventually I realize that I am holding on to him just as tightly as he holds on to me. And here we are: two small dying things, as the world ends around us like falling autumn leaves.

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

It was a terrible decision, and I confess I'd make it again.