Trust is an orchid, beautiful but delicate, requiring ideal conditions in order to thrive. Without those conditions, it dies.
You know, I don’t think we’ve actually ever met before, seeing as you’re still breathing.[to John]
Why bother? I’m gonna bring it to us.[Felicity Smoak: Go to hell.]
Master the paradox of change with inconstancy, and the primordial force of Nature itself will be at your beck and call.
Death is a beautiful thing. We die, we go into the ground, our remains grow into flowers. It’s only in the interval after dying that new things can sprout.
Nothing destroys a man like losing the ones he loves the most.
