Without memory there can be no insight. Without love, there can be no appreciation.
The prince is never going to come. Everyone knows that; and maybe sleeping beauty's dead.
Oh, the lies that I have told myself and others. I knew it yet I didn't know.
My conscience is killing me, isn't it? And when you're immortal that can be a really long and ignominious death
It was over now, and the meaningless world was tolerable and need not be explained. And never would it be, and how foolish I had ever been to think so.
One moment the world is as it is. The next, it is something entirely different. Something it has never been before.