Victoria Aveyard

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In the fairy tales, the poor girl smiles when she becomes a princess. Right now, I don't know if I'll ever smile again

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The thing with heat is, no matter how cold you are, no matter how much you need warmth, it always, eventually, becomes too much

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I fear being alone more than anything else. So why do I do this? Why do I push away the people I love? What is so very wrong with me?I don’t know.And I don’t know how to make it stop

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She was happy, yes, in her own way, as best as she knew.But there’s a difference between a single candle in darkness and a sunrise

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You want me to pin my entire operation, the entire revolution on some teenaged love story? I can't believe this