There're three reasonspeople get away from here:gone good, gone bad orgone dead.

In short, you had that particular ability which I never had: the ability to be alive.

Achilles weeps. He cradles me, and will not eat, nor speak a word other than my name.

I don't see the point in worrying now that I a half-dead and not when I was okay.

I'm alive but I have no life. I'm alive but also dead. I'm dead and alive.

You don't think I'm going to deflower you under your father's roof, do you?

If the living are haunted by the dead, then the dead are haunted by their own mistakes.

The sound of him drinking was indescribable—like dirty runoff down a storm drain.

I alone knew what I had suffered. I alone knew what it felt like to be alive but dead.

How could we have been afraid of her? She was only dead. It’s the living we fear.

compressed into boxes, packed in sawdust,... trussed up in sacks, roped up like hams...

After the fire died down, what remained were two charred hearts, that once beat as one.

Music without passion is merely noise. A life without passion? You may as well be dead.

For the dead, who seem to take away so much, really take with them nothing that is ours.

What’s the difference between being dead, and just not knowing you’re alive?