- and you are truly human now. You can love, and fear, and forbid things to be what they are, and overact.

I am a king's daughter, And if I cared to care, The moon that has no mistress Would flutter in my hair. No one dares to cherish What I choose to crave. Never have I hungered, For that I did not have I am a kings daughter, And I grow old within The prison of my person, The shackles of my skin. And I would run away And beg from door to door, Just to see your shadow Once, and never more.

For a moment she turned in a circle, staring at her hands, which she held high and useless, close to her breast. She bobbed and shambled like an ape doing a trick, and her face was the silly, bewildered face of a joker's victim. And yet she could make no move that was not beautiful. Her trapped terror was more lovely than any joy that Molly had ever seen, and that was the most terrible thing about it.

They know these mornings well and love them desperately because they cannot last - these people who know that nothing lasts.

Whatever can die is beautiful — more beautiful than a unicorn, who lives forever, and who is the most beautiful creature in the world. Do you understand me?

You ever want to see real witchcraft, you watch people protecting their comfort, their beliefs.

But I still feel I waste a lot of time leaning on my elbow and thinking to myself, 'alright sucker, now what?'