To have a deeper understanding of life one must pause from looking outward and travel inward into the depths of consciousness.

When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.

I do know the difference between right and wrong, but I just like the way wrong feels. It's an impulse, an urge more intense than anything else.

We were encouraged to propose safetyprevention suggestions, and write them all down_ locking doors, walking or exercising with a friend, wearing shoes that don__ hinder running. Erin__ suggestion of __void assholes_ was popular.

I yanked hard on the reins, and my horse's hooves slid on the linoleum as he skidded to a stop, nervously snorting and tossing his head at the cramped quarters he'd suddenly found himself in. The Frontman stood in the hallway between me and Ben, holding him at gunpoint, but his head was turned to stare back at me, eyes wide with surprise at seeing a teenage girl on a horse in the kitchen.

The two men's eyes widened when they saw me charging toward them. One of them dropped his hold on Grey, letting him sway dangerously over the edge. Both men reached for their guns, but it was too late. I was nearly on them. Fortiter.I slammed into Grey, my momentum carrying us over the low edge. I briefly heard Karl shout, before the wind filled my ears. We were falling fast, and the pavement rushed up at us at an alarming speed.