Because you can't keep up the illusion forever," I say. "No one has that much magic.

So much of the literature we had to read for high school English class was filled with victimized, tragic, symbolic women who spurred the plot forward with their inevitable shunning/death/shunning-followed-by-pregnancy-followed-by-death timelines.

Beauty, grace, and charm my foot. It's a school for sadists with good tea-serving skills.

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.

Because there's nothing wrong with you... that can't be fixed.

I'm floating inside my skin. I could go on floating like this for days. Right now, the real world with its heartbreak and disappointments is just a pulse against the protective membrane we've drunk ourselves into. It's somewhere outside us, waiting." A Great and Terrible Beauty, Page 141, by

I know because I read...Your mind is not a cage. It's a garden. And it requires cultivating.