But Christina and I are not people who cry together; we're people who fight together. SO I hold my tears in.

I feel the monster of grief again, writhing in the empty space where my heart and stomach used to be. I gasp, pressing both palms to my chest. Now the monstrous thing has its claws around my throat, squeezing my airway. I twist and put my head between my knees, breathing until the strangled feeling leaves me.

Sometimes it isn't fighting that's brave, its facing the death you know is coming.

The Candor sing the praises of the truth, but they never tell you how much it costs.

This is bizarre," I say. "I think it's beautiful," he says. I give him a look. "What?" He laughs a little. "They each have an equal role in government; they each feel equally responsible. And it makes them care; it makes them kind. I think that's beautiful.

In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life.

I have your back. I didn't mean only when it's easy. All the time.