“I had hoped one day to find someone who loves my monsters, the wolves that I feed, the demons I sing to sleep, the tiger that is my caged heart, the parts of me I do not talk about. I prayed and wished and yearned until I realized that I had already found her within me.”

Teach your daughters their battle cries are needed far more than their silence and hear them deafen the world with their fearlessness.

You deserve someone who lets you glow in every way you need to.

Some things are beautiful, but they are beautiful in the way of the sun. If you fly too close, they will melt your wings and send you plummeting into the sea.

Her mother told her she could grow up to be anything she wanted be, so she grew up to become the strongest of the strong, the strangest of the strange, the wildest of the wild, the wolf leading wolves.

I hope you summon your courage and you invite your demons to tea, and you learn to listen to all their stories.

She is alone, and oh how brilliantly she burns.

And you say you are broken, but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light.

You are a dangerous collection of all my favorite things. An old soul, a heart of gold, and hands that make my body sing.

You are not his princess; you are your own queen.

A mess of beautiful contradictions make her whole, she wears fire for skin but a storm lives in her soul.

People aren’t born sad; we make them that way.

Some people will always taste like fire and leave the ones that love them tasting like ash.

Those freckles make you seem like a galaxy of stars, just waiting to be explored and loved.

Tell your daughters how you love your body. Tell them how they must love theirs.

I hope you find someone who knows how to love you when you are sad.

You must understand: they fear you. There is nothing scarier in their minds than a girl who knows the power of her flames.

Curse us eh/I’ll make you pay!/I don’t want to rhyme all day!

Colombia is not how people think it is. We used to eat fish every Sunday at the beach. In the town where I grew up, people did not tell lies.

Most days now his loss is a part of her, an awkward weight she carries around, invisible to everyone else, subtly altering the way she moves through the day. But today, the Anniversary of the day he died, is a day when all bets are off.

At every hour of every day, I can tell you on which page of which book each school child in Italy is studying.

It was a weird mix of emotions. One day, your best friend could be killed. The day before, you could be celebrating him getting a brand-new bike.

The city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something.

Youth is a malady of which one becomes cured a little every day.

One thing that’s true of gritty people is they love what they do, and they keep loving what they do. So they’re not just in love for a day or a week.