The small launch bay was littered with debris. A powerful breeze tore at his black silk shirt as Kilroy made his way across it to the waiting shuttle, evoking a feeling like the fingers of fate were caressing his body. __he Hammer_ stepped over the body of one of his fallen crew without a trace of care or concern. The air was rushing past him, like a wind, out into space through the wounds in the side of his ship. Fatigued and desperate, the Hammer was running out of options. His ship was a mess, holed in a dozen places, the life support systems failing. Weakened hull sections were collapsing in pressure bursts. The vibrations that shook the deck beneath him now were not from the engines that once drove her forward, but now from the explosions down below, tearing her apart.

Let me love you, he saidI want to mould that broken heart,To feel the pain the others before I have caused,Walk down the darkness that you walked through,Understand how something so broken can be so beautiful,I need to understand how you manifested.

She wasn__ his kind of woman, and she didn__ want to fall in love with a man who would break her heart like a Dorito.

A broken heart in real life isn't half as dreadful as it is in books. It's a good deal like a bad tooth, though you won't think THAT a very romantic simile. It takes spells of aching and gives you a sleepless night now and then, but between times it lets you enjoy life and dreams and echoes and peanut candy as if there were nothing the matter with it.

You can't sweep something broken into a bag and call it whole. It takes repair.

A Broken Record can still play the best soundtrack. Broken can be beautiful when you allow God work on you.