Book: The return of the dead man

I always wanted to be strong and not seem so.

I'm tired; tired of her endless fatigue that permeated my body through and even deeper.

Now I'm left with nothing but my anger. Rage. Anger. These feelings seized me entirely, leaving no room for the reflection. Better to fight than to cry. It is better to kill than to suffer from pain.

... I tortured myself with hope, knowing that hope I have.

Forward, only forward, not looking back.
And yet I have often asked myself the question: forward to where?
The answer is I do not know still. I know only one thing: I will never turn back.

Surely I managed to live without it for half an hour, forty five minutes? Call of TV, print media, collect the press conference - it's a real victory!
No. I didn't stop to think about it. I can't stop thinking about him. He's not - really, no kidding, and there never will be.

... you have a gift to think about what you want to forget.

The smell of death is not very nice, even if you encountered it more than once and does not afraid of her.