Maybe love was superstition, a prayer we said to keep the truth of loneliness at bay. I tilted my head back. The stars looked like they were close together, when really they were millions of miles apart. In the end, maybe love just meant longing for something impossibly bright and forever out of reach.

You and I are going to change the world.

The less you say, the more weight your words will carry.

Oh, and the easiest way to make someone furious is to tell her to calm down.

Grief had its own life, took its own sustenance.

I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important.

Just because you escape one trap, doesn't mean you will escape the next.