“And darling, I hope your remember to kiss the ghosts goodnight. They are only older versions of you that you have had to discard and forget.”

There is an art in the emptiness of all natural things.

Maybe magic ends with me and it will never cross your path, but I want you to remember that survival is an art. The world is falsehood so you rely on your smarts.

I’d like to think our love does return to us reincarnated in different human forms. That people might be temporary, but love is permanent and it just changes form.

There is a spell for almost anything and if there’s not a spell, there is at least a poem.

When I set out to find my father, I was not being brave. I was acting out of fear or losing the only parent I ever had. They may want you to believe I was simple being brave, but anxiety makes more heroes than history would care to repeat.

Because girls who were building empires for themselves did not need kingdoms to shine.

The river takes what she wants, does what she desires, and washes over anything that stands in her way.

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.

There are graveyards inside you made of people that made you ache, made of memories that you barely survived made of trauma and heartbreak. These graveyards need to become gardens where you plant flowers that blossom, for you to let go.

So sing a soft lullaby to the things you hate about yourself, and get to know them too.

There is something moon-soaked and dawn-flavoured about her.

These are women made of terrible tempests and savage storms and the untamed unwanted.

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.

Enter into the promises of God. It is your inheritance. You will do more in one year if you are really filled with the Holy Ghost than you could do in fifty years apart from Him.

The dogma of the Ghost in the machine.

If you go into an underground train in London – probably anywhere, but chiefly in London – there’s that sense of almost entering a ghostly dimension. People are very still and quiet; they don’t exchange many pleasantries.

True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen.

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.

The ghosts of all the women you used to be are all so proud of who you have become, storm child made of wild and flame.

On nights I cant sleep, your ghost puts me back to sleep.

When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us.