I always knew, on some level, that I wouldn't live long. It's simply not written in my stars.

And that’s when I realize that, at the end, we’d all wish for the same thing. Just a little more time.

Death has a terrible habit of cutting straight through every careful line you've drawn between your present and your future. I had a hundred thousand of these lines, and in one day they were severed, leaving me with nothing but a stack of his medical bills and gambling debt. Death didn't even give me somewhere to direct my anger. All I could do was search the sky.

What’s the point of keeping in touch with the girl you’re crazy about, when you’re dying?

After she was gone, I sheathed her sword at my belt, draped her cloak over my shoulders, carried her heart in my arms, and, somehow, went on.

I'd gotten someone killed.The price people seem to pay for crossing my path.

Few people ever kill for the right reasons.

Without her, I am less afraid of dying. Without her, the world is that much darker.

I am numb. I don’t know what to do. The absence of my link to Enzo is a yawning chasm, a hollowness I first felt when Teren took Enzo’s life in the Estenzian arena. How long had he been a part of my world? How had my life been before he stepped into it? All I can think is that I am losing him all over again, except that I already lost him.