“Stop it," Chance says out loud, angryraw, scornful voice that she hardly recognizes, "Jesus, just fucking stop it," but she's crying again, and her eyes burn, and she's so goddamn sick of the sound, the smell and saltbland flavor of her own useless tears.”
“And our tears are an expression of that which we cannot express. Tears are perfect prayer.”
“Life is a journey filled with twists and turns, each step teaching us who we are meant to become.”
“Every time you cry, your tears put out my candle.”
“But I am not allowed to forget The taste of the tears of yesterday.”