There’s a limit to how much living can be done in a life without freedom.

Once upon a time there were two parents, two children, and a brick house with lilies in the yard. The parents died, the lilies wilted. One child disappeared. Then the other." Pg 225

I think she's brave. I think that nobody has ever believed what she could be capable of. All her life, nobody was listening.

Everyone should remember being born. It doesn't seem fair that we only remember dying.

But I know all the things you're too sweet to know.

She has the majesty of hurricanes and explosions.

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