if you learn to hate one or two persons... you'll soon hate millions of people.

If you start by hating one or two people, you won't be able to stop. Pretty soon you'll hate a hundred people."
"A zillion?"
"Even a zillion. A little hatred goes a long, long way. It grows and grows. And it's hungry."
"Like Cimmamum?"
"Even hungrier. You keep feeding it more and more people, and the more it gets, the more it wants. It's never satisfied. And pretty soon it squeezes all the love out of your heart"--I pointed to her heart; she looked down at her chest--"and all you'll have left is a hateful heart.

Amanda took the torn page from Maniac. To her, it was the broken wing of a bird, a pet out in the rain.

The echo of her laughter is the second sunrise I awaken to each day, and at night I feel it is more than the stars looking down on me.

I did leave something behind with you: my heart. Of course, you didn't know it at the time. Maybe I didn't either. What have you done with my heart, Leo? Have you taken good care of it? Have you misplaced it?

She was bendable light: she shone around every corner of my day.