Our fear is we're going to get in and find nothing, that this whole thing is a sham.

He just lived in constant fear for his life.

(Or maybe she was just more afraid of being like everyone else.)

I don’t trust anybody. Not anybody. And the more that I care about someone, the more sure I am they’re going to get tired of me and take off.

She wanted to lose herself in him. To tie his arms around her like a tourniquet.

If she showed him how much she needed him, he'd run away.

Prosper leaped at the chance for help from the West. He thought this was going to be fruitful. It wound up being hell on Earth for him.