I claim you, Rowan Whitethorn. I don't care what you say and how much you protest. I claim you as my friend.

Don't feel bad for one moment about doing what brings you joy.

We each survive in our own way.

We need hope, or else we cannot endure.

Sometimes, the wicked will tell us things just to confuse us–to haunt our thoughts long after we've faced them.

You cannot pick and choose what parts of her to love.

You could be great. You could rattle the stars. You could do anything if only you dared.