The body is innocent. Deeply, beautifully, fundamentally innocent.

When the rest of the mind has fled, sometimes there’s music left.

We were all monsters and bastards, and we were all beautiful.

I’d had more than my share of beautiful today. Tomorrow I’d give some back, restore and replenish the world.

The beauty of the place moved me; I loved how the clean air felt in my lungs, how far I was from everything I had ever known. People I'd hurt, people I'd failed, people who thought me a monster. Here there was no monster greater than the ragged mountains.

Why live in fear that he might find me disgusting someday, when I could make it happen right now?