For I need this scar over my heart to remind me. Crazy as it sounds, if I can bear the wound on my body, it lessens what I must carry on my soul. How he knew that about me, I… — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
I admired Stalkers style. He was incredibly fast using two small blades strapped to the backs of his hands. Slash slash slash. Fighting him you wouldn’t die of one great wound but instead bleed out slowly surprised to find yourself… — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
I’d never known it was possible to love as he did— with complete devotion yet devoid of promises. — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
“Vel once told me that the heart isn't like a cup of water. You can't drain it. It's more like an endless well, and… — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
There were different kinds of strength. I knew that now. It didn't always come from a knife or a willingness to fight. Sometimes it… — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
“When people stop writing down their stories, the soul the world is lost.” — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
Is that love? It seems like a pale word, too easily tossed about by people who don’t know the meaning of it, who twist… — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
Maybe I was just one of those people who couldn't rest easy unless things went catastrophically wrong. — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
Here in the enclave, one didn't prosper by demonstrating too much independent thought. — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
“My heart hurt when I remembered him, but the alternative was forgetting, and that was the final kind of death—when nobody told your story… — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
“He cocked his head, listening, then whispered to the big man, "We've got a group of four, incoming. Don't scare them off with your… — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
“These are the results of public security cams at work, recording routinely those who come and go. Apparently, it functions as a wondrous preventative… — Ann Aguirre Copy Share Image
