" For decades he had lived it up with nothing to live for, had tried to kill himself without a cause worth dying for; and during the thirty-some-odd strides his daughter made down the cement steps and across the empty street, he was convinced that he would endure any suffering or make any sacrifice to put things right again. He felt neither sadness nor hope, but all the weight of his own history, as if every highway he’d raced down, every day he’d squandered, every bad idea he’d chased down a dead-end road, in one single, swelling moment, could finally have a purpose. "

― Peter Craig , Blood Father