“I will not give up the flowers in my heart for stones just because the world is a hard place. The world is only hard because it needs more flower hearted people.”

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.

Not all girls are made of sugar and spice and all things nice. Some are made of witchcraft and wolf and a little bit of vice.

Some people are born with tornadoes in their lives, but constellations in their eyes. Other people are born with stars at their feet, but their souls are lost at sea.

Only the brave and the broken are kind in this world.

Let it hurt. Let it bleed. Let it heal. And let it go.

Some girls are full of heartache and poetry and those are the kind of girls who try to save wolves instead of running away from them.