“Were built of contradictions, all of us. Its those opposing forces that give us strength, like an arch, each block pressing the next. Give me a man whose parts are all aligned in agreement and Ill ...”

“There is something brittle in me that will break before it bends. Perhaps if the [the enemy] had brought a smaller army I might have had the sense to run. But he overdid it.”

“There is no sound more annoying than the chatter of a child, and none more sad than the silence they leave when they are gone.”

“Memory is all we are. Moments and feelings, captured in amber, strung on filaments of reason. Take a mans memories and you take all of him. Chip away a memory at a time and you destroy him as surel...”

“I want her beyond reason. I need to own, consume, worship, devour. What I've made of her in my mind cannot live in flesh.”

“When you've committed yourself to violence it takes an almost inhuman effort to stop short. It's one of those things that once you've started need to be finished, rather like coitus, interrupting t...”

“Nostalgia can be more painful than a surgeon's knife.”

“...good words - that triumphalism of positivity- but life will claw and eat you - chew you over and over - if you carry such a small knife ...”

“A man can own a woman, and a man can own a knife, but no man can own both,”

“For every inch of skin, there is memory. Devils are so made. Saints, too, if you believe in them. His humanity has been broken as an old walking stick that once held up a crippled man named Thomas....”

“It frightens me that I can't do anything sensible about it.""Are you scared that you'll wind up with a boring job where you have to see the same people every day and drink instant coffee?""I'm more...”

“She'd be dead before the memories and pain were finally gone; she knew it, accepted it, and dealt with it.”

“(...)And what did I want? (...)A chance to sleep easy in my bed without fear. (...) There were old wants too, to be loved for who I was, not what I could do, to lie in a meadow with a boy's arms ar...”

“(...)And what did I want? (...)A chance to sleep easy in my bed without fear. (...) There were old wants too, to be loved for who I was, not what I could do, to lie in a meadow with a boy's arms ar...”