Don't you miss it?" I say. "Being free." He laughs.

Every star has been set in the sky. We mistakenly think they were put there for us.

There is no choice for him but to believe. He has nothing left to give in offering.

Her mind is a bird that's trapped inside her skull, flapping and thrashing, never breaking free.

Cure" is one of the most precious words in the English language. It's a short word. A clean and simple word. But it isn't so easy a thing as it sounds. There are questions like: How will this affect us in ten years? In twenty? What will it do to our children? Our children's children?

Dystopian, by definition, promises a darker story.

There is a dark place calling to me, but I will not go just yet. I know I can't return from it.