I’d never known that I could feel this broken and whole at once.

The pages afforded glimpses into my soul where I’d hidden it, behind masks of paper and ink.

All of my stubborn thoughts of dying with dignity melted away. Dignity was for the weak – I was full of fury.

What good are words if no one believes them?

Love does not always end well.

We weren’t that different after all, our souls laden with the same ache of loss, our hearts bursting with the same longing to save what remained of all we loved.

The pages afforded glimpses into my soul where I'd hidden it, behind masks of paper and ink.

What else has kept any of us going, but love of someone or the memory of that love?

We are the Dragon-Hearted.

Do not believe in fear.