Once, during the drinking phase, Wendy had accused him of desiring his own destruction but not possessing the necessary moral fiber to support a full-blown deathwish. So he manufactured ways in which other people could do it, lopping a piece at a time off himself and their family.

The wind makes you ache is some place that is deeper than your bones. It may be that it touches something old in the human soul, a chord of race memory that says Migrate or die - migrate or die.

I don't have nightmares; I give them all to you.

You discarded most of the lies along the way but held on to the one that said life mattered.

You'll consider what you did wrong & bookend your reflections with hunger - no supper, no breakfast.

I think you're a taker. You've always been one. It's like God left some part of you out when He built you inside of me.

Sometimes dead is better