You came form different starts and you'll come to different ends.

It will kill me, it will kill me, it will kill me. And I don't care.

I used to think that's what love was: knowing someone so well he was like a part of you.

Why couldn't you let me have it? Why did you have to take it? Why did you always take everything?

people do terrible things, sometimes, for the best reasons.

We leave Pippa behind, standing in the dark, teeming bowels of the camp, while the sun begins to stain the sky electric, and from all sides the guns draw closer.

The last laugh, the last cup of coffee, the last sunset, the last time you jump through a sprinkler, or eat an ice-cream cone, or stick your tongue out to catch a snowflake. You just don't know.