D. Morgenstern

Without hope, there is no despair. There is only meaningless suffering.

As you have seen the treachery of love because of me, I have seen my cruelty because of you. But you learned mercy from me, and from you I learned resilience. As you came to understand me enough to know the value I placed on selfless love, I understand your nature better.

True love was beyond the bars, but a facsimile of it came with no suffering at all.

Perhaps her only legacy would be that she had known something immortal, and while eternity may still belong to God alone, not all things were enslaved by time.

She had been nothing but a beloved bauble passed from a mother to a son, a decoration of vanity, devoid of identity.

Hate and love were both conceived in fear, perhaps that was why they were nearly the same thing, but only one was steeped in hope.

Was this new self awareness a gift or a curse?