Maybe no one can know how it is for anyone else.

Sometimes I wish we could rub out all of our mistakes and start fresh, from the beginning,' I said. 'And sometimes I think there isn't anything to us but our mistakes.

And sometimes I think there isn’t anything to us but our mistakes.

I miss good old-fashioned honorable people just trying to make something of life. Simply, without hurting anyone else. I know that makes me a sap.

I'd never met anyone so vibrant or alive. He moved like light.

Ernest once told me that the word paradise was a Persian words that meant walled garden. I knew then that he understood how necessary the promises we made to each other were to our happiness. You couldn't have real freedom unless you knew were the walls were and tended to them. We could lean on the walls because they existed; they existed because we leaned on them.

But in the end, fighting for a love that was already gone felt like trying to live in the ruins of a lost city.