#bir2018

"I have died many times in many ways. It is not the dying that is so awful, as the knowing that you must awaken alone the next dawn.”

→ My Dear Hamilton by Stephanie Dray

“Environments inhabit us. These places that we take into ourselves and make part of us, so that we made of all the places we've loved, or of all the places where we've changed. We pick up bits and pieces from each of them, and hold them all in ourselves.”

there was a song in this forest, too,    but it was a savage song,          whispering of madness and tearing and rage.

No matter where we are, we’ll always share the same sky.                        We can always find each other in the same constellation.

My father used to say that oppression isn’t a finite state. It’s a weight that is carried until it becomes too heavy, and then it is thrown off. Not without struggle, not without pain, but he believed the weight would always, always be fought and overcome.

                 Why am I always so surprised?

“That’s life, August,” she said. “You wanted to feel alive, right? It doesn’t matter if you’re a monster or a human.                                         Living hurts.”