Requiem

He who jumps may fall, but he may also fly.

But it’s not about knowing. It is simply about going forward.

We wanted the freedom to love. We wanted the freedom to choose. Now we have to fight for it.

We are all punished for the lives we have chosen, in one way or another.

As my mother said, there are some losses we never get over.

We have no choice but to step forward, and then step forward again, and then step forward again; suddenly we find ourselves on a road we haven’t chosen at all.

We are always being pushed and squeezed down one road or another.

mouth is so dry; the sun is so blinding. I look away, toward the hundreds and hundreds of people who have been driven out of their homes, out of their lives, to this place of dust and dirtiness, all because they wanted the power to feel, to think, to choose for themselves. They couldn’t have known that even this was a lie—that we never really choose, not entirely.

Despite the fact that Raven and Tack are often fighting, it’s impossible to imagine one without the other. They are like two plants that have grown around each other—they strangle and squeeze and support at the same time

Love is a kind of possession. It’s a poison.