My parents taught me never to judge others based on whom they love, what color their skin is, or their religion.

I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here, 'Cause I remember it all, all, all... too well...

I've been giving out chances every time and all you do is let me down.

At some point, you grow out of being attracted to that flame that burns you over and over and over again.

I still love sparkles and grocery shopping and really old cats that are only nice to you half the time. I still love writing in my journal and wearing dresses all the time and staring at chandeliers.

If you can figure out how you're feeling, then maybe you have a chance of getting over it.

To me fearless isn't not having fears, it's not that you're not afraid of anything. I think that being fearless is having a lot of fears, but you jump anyway.