I miss something I never even had.

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

I've done it all before, I tell myself, and I can do it again. Trust is the strongest weapon.

There's nothing here to say good-bye to. There's no dancing girl. No mischievous smile. She's gone, off with her sisters, broken free, escaped. And if she were here now, she would say, "Go.

It doesn't matter how much his mother loves him; love is not enough to keep any of us alive.

On tiptoes the redhead wouldn't even reach my shoulders; she is clearly too young to be a bride. And the willowy girl is too forlorn. And I am too unwilling. Yet here we are.

We'll squeeze every second that we can from our lives, because we're young, and we have plenty of years to grow. We'll grow until we're braver. We'll grow until our bones ache and our skin wrinkles and our hair goes white, and until our hearts decide, at last, that it's time to stop.