Is there any good left in the world/ And if there is, can you still find it in the places that matter? Why is it that the only places i see it now, is in the graves of the victims, and the tears of those who mourn them?

How do you mourn something that never really belonged to you?

The only things I regret, and the only things I'll ever regret are things I didn't do. In the end, that's what we mourn. The paths we didn't take. The people we didn't touch.