After all, what can we ever gain in forever looking back and blaming ourselves if our lives have not turned out quite as we might have wished?

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There was another life that I might have had, but I am having this one.

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She always wanted to believe in things.

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Poor creatures. What did we do to you? With all our schemes and plans?

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All children have to be deceived if they are to grow up without trauma.

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Sometimes I get so immersed in my own company, if I unexpectedly run into someone I know, it's a bit of a shock and takes me a while to adjust.

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Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don’t go along with that. The memories I value most, I don’t ever see them fading.

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What I'm not sure about, is if our lives have been so different from the lives of the people we save. We all complete. Maybe none of us really understand what we've lived through, or feel we've had enough time.

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I half closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he'd wave, and maybe even call.

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We took away your art because we thought it would reveal your souls. Or to put it more finely, we did it to prove you had souls at all.

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