Some people believe that I will go nowhere, and maybe they're right, but maybe they're not.

I can't tell him I need him. I can't need him, period -- or really, we can't need each other, because who knows how long either of us will last in this war?

People are supossed to aspire to become their fathers, not shudder at the thought.

I feel bare. I didn't realize I wore my secrets as armor until they were gone and now everyone sees me as I really am.

I suppose everything is bound to look different when you aren't on your way to die.

I read somewhere, one, that crying defies scientific explanation. Tears are only meant to lubricate the eyes. There is no real reason for tear glands to overproduce tears at the behest of emotion. I think we cry to release the animal parts of us without losing our humanity. Because inside of me is a beast that snarls, and growls, and strains toward freedom, toward Tobias, and, above all, towards life. And as hard as I try, I cannot kill it.

Maybe it's a little depressing to think that my vision of a perfect world is actually so messed up, but I think it means that I don't really understand what 'perfect' is.