Човек може да понесе всичко. Болката, която не можем да понесем, ни убива моментално.

“The expression in her eyes was bitter as nightshade. 'You ask me about regret? …”

“Rena squinted at me, blowing a strand of her matte black hair out of her face, …”

“If I were a poet, that’s what I’d write about. People who worked in the middle …”

“For she is my love, and other women are but big bodies of flame.”