When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.

The cake had a trick candle that wouldn't go out, so I didn't get my wish. Which was just that it would always be like this, that my life could be a party just for me.

Imagination doesn't always make you long for what you cannot have, but rather thrive in what you do not have.

If I had a single wish, I would wish sixty seconds of total depravity upon myself. For one of the greatest gifts of all is to have __othing_ so that I can finally learn how to appreciate __verything_.

She reminded me of a darkness, a darkness that I've missed.

I think sometimes when we find love we pretend it away, or ignore it, or tell ourselves we__e imagining it. Because it is the most painful kind of hope there is.