Why can’t the world hear? I ask myself. Within a few moments I ask it many times. Because it doesn’t care, I finally answer, and I know I’m right. It’s like I’ve been chosen. But chosen for what? I ask.

The point is, Ilsa Hermann had decided to make suffering her triumph. When it refused to let go of her, she succumbed to it. She embraced it.

A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.

It's not a big thing, but I guess it's true--big things are often just small things that are noticed.

You see, to me, for just a moment, despite all of the colors that touch and grapple with what I see in this world, I will often catch an eclipse when a human dies. I've seen millions of them. I've seen more eclipses than I care to remember

It's hard to not like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them

He killed himself for wanting to live.