"It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end… because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing… this shadow. Even darkness must pass. "
He sent me a letter saying he’d quit. The stationary was bright, but smelled of nicotine. I could imagine him writing with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. The ashes had slightly singed parts of the paper, but, apparently, he didn’t notice. He hadn’t noticed how his lies had left holes in me either. At that moment, I was finished.