My heart shifted a little in my chest; it seemed to swell and beat against my bones until I couldn't hear.
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 cannot fathom.
My heart should be breaking, too, but there comes a point when you’re so inured to loss that you no longer feel the lash.
There are quiet ways to die where the body just doesn’t notice that the heart is gone.
No matter how interminable something feels, there is always, always an ending. Sometimes that's good, and sometimes it's bad; sometimes it's a matter of indifference, and sometimes it's heartbreaking, and your life is never the same thereafter.
A divided heart offers a strange sensation.
My heart raced. He needs you, I thought. Don't let him down. I couldn't remember ever being so happy... or so scared.