The terrible things that happen to us,” Tessa said slowly. “What we do with them...I think that’s what makes us artists.
Rest in peace? Please, God, no. Haunt me, Sofia. You said you'd haunt me.
You can suck the life out of someone without ever touching a drop of their blood. --Raphael Sinclair
There’s no such thing as yesterday, he thought dully. Memory is just today, happening over and over again, stamped indelibly with regret.
