You have everything. A family, a great job, a lot of people who look up to you. You've got a place to go home to. So go.

In fairytales, when the mask came off, the handsome prince still loved the girl, no matter what -and that alone would turn her into a princess.

He gently touched his mother's cheek, felt her sorrow slip over his fingertips.

You can miss a person you've never known.

What I really want to tell him is to pick up that baby of his and hold her tight, to set the moon on the edge of her crib and to hang her name up in the stars.

Bleeding heart, he’d called her. Well. He should know. He’d been the first to rip it to pieces.

The first question she was asked was What do you do? as if that were enough to define you. Nobody ever asked you who you really were, because that changed. You might be a judge or a mother or a dreamer. You might be a loner or a visionary or a pessimist. You might be the victim, and you might be the bully. You could be the parent, and also the child. You might wond one day and heal the next.