Because 'You're perfect just the way you are,' is what your guidance counselor says. And she's an alcoholic.

The dark does not weep for itself because there is no light. Rather, it accepts that it is the dark.

If you tell them what they want to hear, they don't bother to try to see.

For the first time, I notice the lax skin at Mrs. Nightwing's jaw, the fine down that lies upon her cheek like the imprint of a childe's hand, and I wonder what it must be like watching yourself soften under the years, unable to stop it. what it's like measuring your days in perfecting girls' curtsies and drinking nightly glasses of sherry, trying to keep up with the world as it pulls you spinning into the furure, knowing you are always one step behind it.

When you peeled back the skin, you were dealing with bone and muscle, blood and nerve endings. It was all the same. She liked the beautiful logic of the circulatory system, the elegance of the neurological, and the fierce warrior spirit of the heart. The body had rules and it had quirks.

I know I've done the right thing but I couldn't feel worse about it, and I suppose that is part of what it is to lead.

The night's chilly breath tickles up my neck and finds my ear, whispering secrets only the wind knows.