In a world of sorrow, love was an act of will. All you needed were the right ingredients.

Being an outsider is the one thing we all have in common.

You cannot dispute the ridiculous. You cannot argue reasonably with evil.

Those you love will not drown or burn. They will fly away.' ...'Now we both have people we love who are like birds. They have flown far from anything in this world that can hurt them. They're flying away still.

I also like the whole idea of fairy tales and folk tales being a woman's domain, considered a lesser domain at the time they were told.

I feel like my eyes are killing me at the end of the day and that I shouldn't use them.

Outside, the September air was enticingly fragrant, yellow with pollen and rich, lemony sunlight.