She sticks to the rules, because it's all she's got. It's like her feelings dried up and they were replaced with a pile of useless laws. Like my appendix. Don't know what I need it for, but it's still there.

She hugs me. It's tentative at first, a little scared, and yes, a little repulsed, but then she melts into it. She rests her head against my cold neck and embraces me. Unable to believer what's happening, I put my arm around her and just hold her.
I almost swear I can feel my heart thumping. But it must just be hers, pressed tightly against my chest.

The more we lose, the more we become the survivors.

Not all the magic of earth is benevolent.

I'm watching her talk. Watching her jaw move and collecting her words one by one as they spill from her lips. I don't deserve them. Her warm memories. I'd like to paint them over the bare plaster walls of my soul, but everything I paint seems to peel.

...The purpose of man's life...is to become an abject zombie who serves a purpose he does not know, for reasons he is not to question.