Aunt Mercy put down her tiles, one at a time. I-T-C-H-I-N. Aunt Grace leaned closer to the board, squinting. "Mercy Lynne, you're cheatin' again! What kinda word is that? Use it in a sentence." "I'm itchin' ta have some a that white cake." "That's not how you spell it." At least one of them could spell. Aunt Grace pulled one of the tiles off the board. "There's no T in itchin'." Or not.

I haven't left a mark on the world, but is that so bad? Considering how deeply the world has marked me?

There are more reasons for people's actions than the number of actions that are actually set in motion.

I am powerful because of who and what I am. Not because of who I am not.

The things that are the most valuable are often the ones you don't even know exist. -- Xavier, The Gatekeeper

He saved the world, but he shattered mine.

She yanked my plate away and took it to the sink. She rinsed some bones that looked like pork shoulder, which was weird since we'd had chicken tonight.