But from the beginning, I knew that in a world where destiny was dead, I was destined, forever, to love him. Even though he didn't - though he couldn't - ever love me back.

You don't reach points in life at which everything is sorted out for us. I believe in endings that should suggest our stories always continue.

It will kill me, it will kill me, it will kill me. And I don't care.

I want to be healed and whole and perfect again, like a misshapen slab of iron that comes out of the fire glowing, glittering, razor-sharp.

This is the strange way of the world, that people who simply want to love are instead forced to become warriors.

That is what hatred is. It will feed you and at the same time turn you to rot. It is hard and deep and angular, a system of blockades. It is everything and total. Hatred is a high tower. In the Wilds, I start to build, and to climb.

The reason you can never go home again isn't necessarily that places change, but people do. So nothing ever looks the same.