Sally...can no longer think of love as a reality, or even as a possibility, however remote.

We are only an instant, that's true. But we are eternal.

But most important of all, she explained that it was all right to say 'No. I disagree.' that was a gift. I understood it was power. The power to think my own thoughts. The power to believe in myself.

Maybe some love was guaranteed. Maybe it fit inside you and around you like skin and bones.

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

Fairytales were maps formed of blood and hair and bones; they were the knots of the sub-conscious unwound. Every word in every tale was real and as true as apples and stones. They all led to the story inside the story.

What men yearn for they often destroy.