Maybe love was superstition, a prayer we said to keep the truth of loneliness at bay. I tilted my head back. The stars looked like they were close together, when really they were millions of miles apart. In the end, maybe love just meant longing for something impossibly bright and forever out of reach.

Just because you escape one trap, doesn't mean you will escape the next.

I had spared the stag's life. The power of that life belonged to me as surely as it belonged to the man who had taken it.

But I’ve also been known to answer to ‘sweetheart’ or ‘handsome.

The less you say, the more weight your words will carry.

There’s no such thing as too much champagne. Though your head will try to tell you otherwise tomorrow.

Don't wish for bricks when you can build from stone.