Each day the memories weigh a little heavier. Each day they drag you down that bit further. You wind them around you, a single thread at a time, and you weave your own shroud, you build a cocoon, and in it madness grows.
Running ain't no bad thing. Leastways if you run in the right direction.
I've always seen 'no' as a challenge rather than an answer.
Anything that you cannot sacrifice pins you. Makes you predictable, makes you weak.
She'll never love you better than she loves her own children.
Memory is all we are. Moments and feelings, captured in amber, strung on filaments of reason. Take a manโs memories and you take all of him. Chip away a memory at a time and you destroy him as surely as if you hammered nail after nail through his skull.