This was not a fearie tale. This was not the movies. This was life. It hurt more. It was excruciating. It was excruciatingly beautiful.

The true warrior isn't immune to fear. She fights in spite of it.

It's important to tell your story. It's important to listen.

My heart is a teacup with hairline cracks. I feel like I have to walk real carefully so it won't get shaken and just all shatter and break.

Stories are like genies...They can carry us into and though our sorrows. Sometimes they burn, sometimes they dance, sometimes they weep, sometimes they sing. Like genies, everyone has one. Like genies, sometimes we forget that we do. Our stories can set us free...When we set them free.

Besides, secretly, without knowing it herself, she had been waiting for a Beast to go to.

Morning. Strawberry sky dusted with white winter powder sugar sun. And nobody to munch on it with