I followed a guy to Denmark. I came home with a broken heart.

It is not the broken heart that kills, but broken pride, monseigneur.

If it's a broken part, replace it. If it's a broken arm, then brace it. If it's a broken heart, then face it.

Send home my long strayed eyes to me, Which too long have dwelt on thee

Qhuinn's eyes shifted away from his buddy--and just happened to measure the distance down to the stone patio below. Hmm . . . doing a swan dive onto all that slate might just get the images of those two out of his head... of course, it would also turn his brain into scrambled eggs, but really, was that such a bad thing?

Throughout my lifetime I've left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there's almost barely enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent.