She's beautiful and graceful, and she is very compassionate and loyal when you aren't responsible for the murder of her family.

There is warmth shooting through my broken body where there should be pain, and I put my arms around the back of his neck and I hold on to him. I hold on because you never know in this place when something good will be taken away.

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

He looks at me, and I don't know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But she's not here with us now, in this room. It's just him and me, and the books. I feel like our lives are in those books. I feel like all the words on the pages are for us.

There's a hazy smile on her lips that won't go away, and her hair is a mess. It's like a brushfire filled with casualties.

To die trying would be better than to die without purpose.

There’s a limit to how much living can be done in a life without freedom.