. . . in the distance I hear a train rushing over the rails, but we are moving away from this place and all that is has meant to us, and that is all right.

I feel uneasy. It's not often that you encounter the real person behind a good-natured mask, the darkest parts of someone. It's not comfortable when you do.

I wonder if that fear still creeps up on her now though she worked so hard to face it—I wonder if fears ever really go away, or if they just lose their power over us.

How many different kinds of ruin do you have to see, before you resign yourself to calling it all 'ruin'?

I was beginning to feel that I had finally found a place to stay, a place that was not so unstable or corrupt or controlling that I could actually belong there. You would think that I would have learned by now—such a place does not exist.

If someone offers you an opportunity to get closer to your enemy, you always take it. I know that without having learned it from anyone.