she flies with her own wings

"What his right name is I've never heard, but around here, he's known as Strider...''

We’re not heroes. We’re from Finchley.

“Damn the world, and damn you too. Damn anyone that ever asked anything of him, damn anyone that ever took anything from him, damn anyone that ever prayed to his name. You know that he will give them everything until there is nothing left of him but the imprint of dust where his feet once trod. You know that he will bear the world like Atlas until his shoulders collapse and his knees buckle and he is crushed by all he used to carry. Dear God, you have already made an Atlas. You have already made an Achilles and an Icarus and a Hercules. You have already made so many heroes, and you can make another again. You can have your pick of heroes. So please, I beg you– he is all that I have, and you have so many heroes and the world has so many more. Let him be soft, and let him be mine.”

But those dreams belonged to a girl, not to the Sun Summoner, not to a Saint.

“The butterfly is a flying flower, the flower a tethered butterfly.” – Ecouchard Le Brun

By Antonio Barzaghi-Cattaneo By Alfred Seifert By Alexander Averin

You make me so happy it turns back to sad. There’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have. Guess I’ll just stumble on home to my cats        ALONE           unless you wanna come along.