There was no one color that could paint Lena Duchannes. She was a red sweater and a blue sky, a gray wind and a silver sparrow, a black curl escaping from behind her ear.

The one broken window that permanently wouldn't roll up had destroyed her perfectly curled blond prom-hair, and by the time we got to the gym she looked like Marie Antoinette with bedhead.

Because saving the people you love isn't stupid. It isn't even a choice

Wait, I got it. We, uh, won the battle and lost the war, or was it the other way around? 'Cause around here, it's hard to tell sometimes.

Sharpie? A mischievous smile spread across her face. I thought you said you couldn't control your powers. Beginner's luck.

bent like the branches of a tree broken like the pieces of my heart cracked like the seventeenth moon shattered like the glass in the window the day we met

Mortals. Everything is so black and white to you.