He's going to be okay," said Quentin. "He has to. He's Tybalt. You'd be all weird and irritating if he wasn't around." "Weird and irritating?" I raised an eyebrow. "What gives you that idea?" Quentin shrugged. "That's already how you get when he isn't around.

Think about that for a moment. They died for you. Now take a good look at the life you're living and tell me: Did they do the right thing?

Madness is surprisingly freeing.

Everyone thinks of them in terms of poisoned apples and glass coffins, and forgets that they represent girls who walked into dark forests and remade them into their own reflections.

Nothing lasts forever. That's the tragedy and the miracle of existence - that everything is impermanent. Everything changes. All we can do is make the best of the time we have. And go down shooting, naturally.

I guess in the end, it doesn’t matter what we wanted. What matters is what we chose to do with the things we had.

...but that was the thing about reality. It didn't need to make sense.