From the landscape: a sense of scale. From the dead: a sense of scale.

For a while I thought I was the dragon. I guess I can tell you that now. And, for a while, I thought I was the princess, cotton candy pink, sitting there in my room, in the tower of the castle, young and beautiful and in love and waiting for you with confidence but the princess looks into her mirror and only sees the princess, while I’m out here, slogging through the mud, breathing fire, and getting stabbed to death. Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal. You still get to be the hero. You get magic gloves! A fish that talks! You get eyes like flashlights!

We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven...

Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal. You still get to be the hero.

Fairy tales have rules. You are a princess or you aren’t. You are pure at heart or you aren’t. If you are pure at heart, or lucky, you might catch a break.

I sleep. I dream. I make up things that I would never say. I say them very quietly.

I'm battling monsters, I'm pulling you out of the burning buildings/ and you say I'll give you anything but you never come through.