I grabbed Aunt Prue's tiny hand, her fingers as small as bare twigs in winter. I closed my eyes and took her other hand, twisting my strong fingers together with her frail ones. I rested my forehead against our hands and closed my eyes. I imagined lifting my head up and seeing her smiling, the tape and tubes gone. I wondered if wishing was the same thing as praying. If hoping for something badly enough could make it happen.

I really was alone, and the only thing worse than being alone was having everyone else see how lonely you were

I needed to touch her, like I needed to breathe.

A vegetarian? Are you insane? That's worse than bein' a quarter demon!

Flying or falling, it's up to us.

There are lots of things we choose not to see. Doesn't mean they aren't there, even if we wish they weren't.

Lies, lies are the place where darkness grows.