April frowned, irritation evident. “I did not consent to your presence,” she said peevishly. “Please depart, and attempt your political assassination on someone else’s property.

Blood is thicker than water, but family isn’t just about blood. Family is about faith, and loyalty, and who you love. If you don’t have those things, I don’t care what the blood says. You’re not family.

You can't win. Logic has no power over her when her territory has been invaded by heathens.

Every life has a watershed moment, an instant when you realize you're about to make a choice that will define everything else you ever do, and that if you choose wrong, there may not be that many things left to choose. Sometimes the wrong choice is the only one that lets you face the end with dignity, grace, and the awareness that you're doing the right thing. I'm not sure we can recognize those moments until they've passed us.

She told the truth as she saw it, and she died for it. I came along for the ride, and I lived. It wasn't worth it. But it was the truth, and it was what had to happen.

It is what it is. Isn't that how these things always go? They are what they are. We just get to cope.

Failure to die is always appreciated.