Set fire to the broken pieces; start anew.

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

Once upon a time there were two parents, two children, and a brick house with lilies in the yard. The parents died, the lilies wilted. One child disappeared. Then the other." Pg 225

Times like this, when she slips her hand into mine and holds on tight, and our husband becomes just a shadow in the doorway.

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

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.

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