My mother... she is beautiful, softened at the edges and tempered with a spine of steel. I want to grow old and be like her.

What if instead of focusing on what you don't have, you concentrate on what you've got?

When you begin a journey of revenge, start by digging two graves: one for your enemy, and one for yourself.

Words are like eggs dropped from great heights; you can no more call them back than ignore the mess they leave when they fall.

It turns out that sharing the past with someone is different from reliving it when you’re alone. It feels less like a wound, more like a poultice.

If you spent your life concentrating on what everyone else thought of you, would you forget who you really were? What if the face you showed the world turned out to be a mask... with nothing beneath it?

It's disappointing to know that someone can see right through you.