Each time Stalker called you 'dove', I wanted to hit him. Because you're not a little gray bird... you're all the light in the world.

I think my head's a minefield strewn with triggers, and maybe if I survive each explosion, what emerges from the wreckage will be me, really, truly me.

I know just how he feels that it’s come to this. Sometimes, love isn’t enough, even when it’s all you have.

People grew lazy. They knew too many blessings, and so lost the ability to appreciate what they had

Life…never gave me a chance to be soft.

I found it curious that people kept animals for companionship and not food. When I'd asked Mama Oaks when she planned to cook the fat creature that slept in a basket in the kitchen, her eyes almost popped out of her head. Since then, she'd kept her pet away from me, like she suspected I meant to turn it into stew. Clearly, I had a lot to learn.

His lashes, fluttered like butterfly wings. "I could've made you happy, dove." "You did," I whispered