“That means life itself is a fairy tale. Like the characters, we all live and love and search for a happily-ever-after.”

“Aren’t all fairy tales based in fact? You yourself are supposed to be nothing more than a myth.Pandora’s box is a story parents read to their children at night,” she countered. “That means life itself is afairy tale. Like the characters, we all live and love and search for a happily-ever-after.”

“No one could ever truly be free as long as they loved, and life wasn't worth living without love. So freedom? Overrated.”

“Once I learned, I went online and ordered every romance novel I could find. They're fairy tales for grown-ups.”

“There are two kinds of people,’ she’d said. ‘Those who coast through life like ducks in a row, following one after the other, and those who ride the waves.’” Tears spilled down my cheeks, and my voice cracked. “‘Ride the waves, baby, and live. Live.”

“You are mine,” he rasped. “Only ever mine. I accept all that you are, and we can be together.”

“He gulped. "No, we aren't done chatting. Why aren't you afraid of dying?""Everything and everyone has an end," she said. "I mean, you're going to be killed soon and though I loathe the thought, you don't see me crying about that, either. I know what will happen, and I accept what cannot be changed. I'm trying to live while I can. While WE can. Dwelling on the bad is what destroys all hints of joy.”