The world is only as fair as you can make it. Takes a lot of fight. A lot of fight. But if you stay in here, in your little cave, that's one less fighter on the side of fair.

When the music is over, she keeps her head down till she finds her seat again, and I wonder how many times each day she dies a little.

And when it comes, her kiss is like something not so much felt as found.

She shrieks above the din. "If you wish a battle, I shall give it. I am the last of my kind. I shall not lie down without a fight.

I had thought Felicity dangerous a moment ago, when she felt powerful. I was wrong. Wounded and powerless, she is more dangerous than I could imagine.

Sitting in my favorite coffeehouse with a new notebook and a hot cup of java is my idea of Heaven.

The uncertainty of our future is nothing more than a fog of breath on a windowpane.