It's funny how things work out sometimes.

I love the idea that magic and witchcraft and battles between supernatural creatures could be raging all around us but just out of our sight.

My father was aloof, very strange and very distant.

You are meant to be here. There are no coincidences. It's all happening the way it was meant to be.

She tried to smile sympathetically, but with her face it wasn't quite possible.

For all men are equal at the moment of death and who are we to judge them when a much greater judge awaits?

When are you at your most defenseless?