"I'm going home," she said.
"Where's home to you?" he asked.
"My house?" she said, confused, and laughed a little.
"Home isn't a place," he paused, "it's a colour, a song, a scent, a feeling, a person, that first sip of good whisky, but it's not a place."
âMy dear, in the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm."