He loved her, as you can only love someone who is an echo of yourself at your time of deepest sorrow.

The privilege isn’t given to everyone.… You must have suffered first, have suffered greatly, have gained some miserable knowledge. In that way your eyes are opened to it.

I've chosen to live - and to live the best I know how.

What had been a shared moment was private now, and always would be. Even if he were to tell the story, it would be a tale told and not the thing itself. The difference between those two was the division between life and death: a lived moment and one entombed.

Written By Daniel Abraham

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