I need him to know that I came for him. I need him to know that somehow, at some point in the tunnels, I began to love him.

Hope keeps you alive.

If you’re smart, you care. And if you care, you love.

Fridays are the hardest in some ways: you’re so close to freedom.

I guess there are some things you never get used to.

I know the past will drag you backward and down, have you snatching at whispers of wind and the gibberish of trees rubbing together, trying to decipher some code, trying to piece together what was broken. It's hopeless. The past is nothing but a weight. It will build inside you like a stone.

In a world without love, this is what people are to each other: values, benefits, and liabilities, numbers and data. We weigh, we quantify, we measure, and the soul is ground to dust.