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Pour Mitch, rien ne rendait la vie plus heureuse que d’aider quelqu’un qu’on aime, faire les choses ensemble les rendaient formidables, même poser du carrelage.

— La différence fait peur, ou peut-être que c’est l’ignorance qui nous ôte un peu d’humanité.

— On devrait être prévenus. Quand les gens voient mourir. Que ce soit leur choix ou pas, je m’en fous, après tout, c’est leur problème. Mais on devrait recevoir une lettre, un avertissement, un SMS, un message vocal, un email, que sais-je, quelque chose de très clair, sans aucune ambiguïté. […] Merde alors.

— Pourquoi dites-vous « les personnes âgées » ? Vous devriez dire « les vieux ». C’est bien « les vieux ». Ça a le mérite d’être fier. Vous dites bien « les jeunes », non ? Vous ne dites pas « les personnes jeunes » ?

“Someone needs to tell those tales. When the battles are fought and won and lost, when the pirates find their treasures and the dragons eat their foes for breakfast with a nice cup of Lapsang souchong, someone needs to tell their bits of overlapping narrative. There’s magic in that. It’s in the listener, and for each and every ear it will be different, and it will affect them in ways they can never predict.”

“Charlie said her aunt didn’t tell jokes because she was laughtose intolerant.”

Most of us only change when the pain of holding on to what we’re attached to is greater than the fear of the unknown.

[…] back to basking in the joy of reading even as her eyes protested. “If I can experience that happiness once more, perhaps I’ll be able to start afresh”, she thought.

The tears wouldn’t stop, but you know, when we feel like crying, we should let it all out. Forcing them back only makes the wounds heal slower.

I know you may not be able to hear anything now, even if you try, but please don’t give up. I feel sure that one day you will find whatever it is you seek, and that the spark that leads to it will come from hearing some kind of voice. People’s lives never stay the same colour forever. There are times when the colour of life changes completely.

It’s my belief that everything in this world has its own language. We have the ability to open up our ears and minds to anything and everything. That could be someone walking down the street, or it could be the sunshine or the wind. […] Maybe tats why, when I thought about you, I heard whispers in the wind that blew from the other side of the hedge, and I felt it in my bones […]

“He sees other things he doesn’t want to see. Why do they keep on appearing like this? Why can’t he turn his mind away from them? What is it about the mind that keeps moving from picture to picture, even the ones that are horrible to see?

“The best mirror is an old friend.” —George Herbert