Small steps to the madhouse still get us there at last

Forget us, forget us all, it makes no difference now, but don't forget we loved it when we were alive.

They moved together, blue diamonds on a green field.

Memory is a part of the present. It builds us up inside; it knits our bones to our muscles and keeps our hearts pumping. It is memory that reminds our bodies to work, and memory that reminds our spirits to work to: it keeps us who we are.~Candle

Indeed, she often wondered if she were dead, or dying from the inside out, and that was the root of her calm, the reason she could surrender her character.

The momentum of the mind can be vexingly, involuntarily capricious.

She's sent the crows out to blind the guests coming for dinner!" What?" She's BLINDING THE GUESTS COMING FOR DINNER!" Well, that's one way to avoid having to dust, I suppose.