Even though it hurt, there are kinds of pain you couldn't speak out loud.
Parents aren’t the people you come from. They’re the people you want to be, when you grow up.
It felt like I'd been living underground, and for a moment, I'd been given this glimpse of the sky. Once you've seen that, how can you go back where you came from?
How could you beat an enemy you couldn't see?
Maybe knowing where you belong is not equal to knowing who you are.
Everytime I look at a zebra, I can't figure out whether it's black with white stripes or white with black stripes, and that frustrates me.