“Monsters,' her dad said, a tear tracing his cheek. 'I live in a world of monsters.”

“I did not come to heal her, the monster said. I came to heal you.”

“Oh," the girl said, shaking her head. "Don't be so simple. People adore monsters. They fill their songs and stories with them. They define themselves in relation to them. You know what a monster is, young shade? Power. Power and choice. Monsters make choices. Monsters shape the world. Monsters force us to become stronger, smarter, better. They sift the weak from the strong and provide a forge for the steeling of souls. Even as we curse monsters, we admire them. Seek to become them, in some ways." Her eyes became distant. "There are far, far worse things to be than a monster.”

“I didn’t want to know that the monster that lived under your bed when you were a kid not only really is there but used to have a few beers with your dad.”

“If human beings are all monsters, why should I sacrifice anything for them?""Because they are beautiful monsters..., And when they live in a network of peace and hope, when they trust the world and their deepest hungers are fulfilled, then within that system, that delicate web, there is joy. That is what we live for, to bind the monsters together, to murder their fear and give birth to their beauty.”

“A girl can dream."His eyebrows rose. "Is that what you dream about? Being a monster?""Not exactly," I said, frowning at his word choice. Monster, indeed. "Mostly I dream about being with you forever.”