Sometimes, running away means you're headed in the exact right direction.

It's not finding what's lost, it's understanding what you've found.

Some people say, 'Save yourself and you save your ways.' I say, 'Be yourself and you save your soul.

Unrequited love is so boring. Weeping under a blue-black sky is for suckers or maniacs.

Love was like that, like a dream you didn't quite understand, one in which you didn't necessarily know what you were looking at until it was right in front of you.

She knows where she's going, and what she has to do. She could, after all, find her way to Route 95 South blindfolded. She could do it in the dark, in fair weather or foul; she can do it even when it seems she will run out of gas. It doesn't matter what people tell you. It doesn't matter what they might say. Sometimes you have to leave home. Sometimes, running away means you're headed in the exact right direction.

I don't think I make much of a distinction between the 'real' and the 'fantastic.' They both seem to be threads in the same cloth as far as I'm concerned.