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

There are so many of us, so many girls. The world wants us for our wombs or our bodies, or it doesn't want us at all.

The thing about hope is that it doesn't go away even when it serves no purpose.

What have you done? What have you given up?' So many things, Cecily. More than you know.

I think he's beginning to understand, and understanding is a horrible thing.

The trick was looking past the illusion, because the exit was never as far away as it seemed.

Love is not enough to keep any of us alive.