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

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.

A story is no small thing.

Fill your life with women that empower you, that help you believe in your magic and aid them to believe in their own exceptional power and their incredible magic too. Women that believe in each other can survive anything. Women who believe in each other create armies that will win kingdoms and wars.

Your body is not a first aid kit for broken people and damaged souls and hearts that are too tired to fix themselves.

You are half fairytale, half girl.

How do you go back to being strangers with someone who has seen your soul?

We have all taken turns being Red Riding Hood and we have all been the wolf.

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

At the end of the day, women are a distraction. Whether you realize it or not.

At the end of the day, they, too, want development of their constituency, state or country.

We did not want, from garbage and nuclear wastes to sludge from sewage to entire ships that had reached the end of their useful life.

The company of fools may first make us smile, but in the end we always feel melancholy.

For the millionth time, I’m retired. I keep saying it, and people keep answering, ‘Well, maybe he doesn’t mean it this time.’ But I do.

The end of art is peace.

I have come up at the end of a dive, and the boat was not where I left it. I had to take care of a buddy who did panic. But I was confident the boat would come back.

We are the cheapest solution provider for end users.