“Remember, there are beginnings in endings, through destruction there comes life.”

Fearless already runs through your blood. Now do it justice.

You become the thing that hurts you until it can hurt you no more.

I am so afraid of disappointing the people I love, I often forget that I am someone I love too. And I need kindness just as much as I believe the people I love do.

Every woman is both match and spark, a light for each other from the dark.

Our stories don’t begin and end because men we once trusted have left them.

I hope you never doubt again that even when you are in pain, that you are a miracle, that every part of you is incredible.

Everyone has forgotten that Lucifer was beautiful too and God’s favorite till he fell.

Knowledge after all is a dark art, full to the brim with liberty, a trembling, malleable power.

People are going to betray you the way Judas betrayed Jesus, the way Brutus betrayed Caesar, and you will love them anyway.

Grief makes unlikely warriors out of us all.

These are girls made of dark lace and witchcraft and a little bit of vice.

But the universe never promised you this would be easy. After all, you are the hero here.

Tell them all what they tried to kill came back. Tell them all that I have come home.

You are still the kindest thing that ever happened to me, even if that is not how our tale is told.

A clever woman is more lethal than a freshly crafted magic wand, and that is why she is fear.

Ghosts of the person you used to be are so proud of who you are, they live on inside you applauding you for living on despite your scars.

Make money your god, and it will plague you like the devil.

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of Ileum?

There is no real direction here, neither lines of power nor cooperation. Decisions are never really made – at best they manage to emerge, from a chaos of peeves, whims, hallucinations and all around assholery.

Destruction after all is a form of creation.

Don’t wreck my reputation, Let me wreck my own.

There is no escape from yesterday because yesterday has deformed us, or been deformed by us. The mood is of no importance. Deformation has taken place.

One whom the infernal gods of Hannibal will cause to be reborn, terror of mankind; never more horror nor worse days in the past than will come to the Romans through Babel.

I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing.