“How could I have been so blind as to want a soul? It was laughable now, to think that a soul could live inside me without being tainted by the centuries of blood and evil and death.The voices agreed, laughing at me, mocking my quest. I didn’t deserve a soul; I didn’t deserve happiness, or peace. Why should I get my happy ending, when I’d left a swath of horror and destruction behind me wherever I went?”

“His voice was terrifying and seemed to scrape across my skin as if it were a tangible thing. Something inside me agreed, as if it were even possible to give something like that. I didn’t even really believe in a soul, but in that moment I could feel it writhing inside me.”

“I was trying not to be happy, hopeful. I did not believe I deserved happiness or even hope, if you knew my soul.”

“I’d accepted my judgment without question. Agreed to live a mortal life. I didn’t know my memories would come with me; didn’t know I’d relive them every day.Death would have been more merciful.”

“When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.”

“I deserve to be happy. I'm sad it took me so long to get that. But I get it now.”