Choose to believe in your own myth your own glamour your own spell a young woman who does this (even if she is just pretending) has everything.

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

I want him to see the flowers in my eyes and hear the songs in my hands.

I didn't tell him that what I was most scared of, most haunted by, was something I didn't understand and could never run away from. It was myself.

You have to make your own family, your own life.

It seems impossible that you can love one person so much, no matter what happens, no matter what they do.

We no longer believe in fairy tales. But we will learn to believe in monsters