You are damaged and broken and unhinged. But so are shooting stars and comets.

The monsters were never under my bed. Because the monsters were inside my head. I fear no monsters, for no monsters I see. Because all this time the monster has been me.

That sadness that you do not speak of, that haunts you in the ache of midnight. Give it to me. I want to heal that.

Don't let a king or a prince or a fairytale tell you you are smaller than that or who you are meant to be.

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.