Reluctance to begin is quick to befriend procrastination. . . .

...She's understood the power of stories. Their magical ability to refill the wounded part of people.

Nell was not one for friends and had never hidden her distaste for most other humans, their neurotic compulsion for the acquisition of allies.

It was such a pleasure to sink one's hands into the warm earth, to feel at one's fingertips the possibilities of the new season.

I've heard it said that children born to stressful times never shake the air of woe . . . .

It's a funny thing, character, the way it brands people as they age, rising from within to leave its scar.

She'd slept terribly the night before. The room, the bed, were both comfortable enough, but she'd been plagued with strange dreams, the sort that lingered upon waking but slithered away from memory as she tried to grasp them. Only the tendrils of discomfort remained.