When he wakes sometimes from dark dreams of broken cradles, and compasses without bearings, he pushes the unease down, lets the daylight contradict it. And isolation lulls him with the music of the lie.

Sometimes life turns out hard, Isabel. Sometimes it just bites right through you. And sometimes, just when you think it's done its worst, it comes back and takes another chunk.

No one ever has or ever will travel quite the same path on earth.

That's how life goes on - protected by the silence that anesthetizes shame.

Sometimes it's good to leave the past in the past.

It is a luxury to do something that serves no practical purpose: the luxury of civilization.

Right and wrong can be like bloody snakes: so tangled up that you can't tell which is which until you've shot 'em both, and then it's too late.