“...I do not know how I can feel this much pain and survive, and at the same time know how much I have to live.”

“Writing, painting, singing- it cannot stop everything. Cannot halt death in its tracks. But perhaps it can make the pause between deaths footsteps sound and look and feel beautiful, can make the sp...”

“Reaching and reached. Cassia”

“Some people think the stars must look closer from up here. They don't. When you're up here, you realize how distant they really arehow impossible to reach.”

“Sometimes paper is only paper," my mothers says. "Words are just words. Ways to capture the real thing. Don't be afraid to remember that."I know what she means. Writing, painting, singing--it canno...”

“She's right. We would compose poems about love and tell stories that have been heard in some form before. But it would be our first time feeling and telling.”

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of wi...”

“My dear,Find what you love and let it kill you.Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness.Let it kill you and let it devour your remains....”

“If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?”

“It gives a fella relief to tell, but it jus' spreads out his sin.”