Some say the world will end in fire, / Some say in ice. / From what I've tasted of desire, / I hold with those who favor fire. (FROST)

Delayed till she had ceased to know, / Delayed till in its vest of snow / Her loving bosom lay. /An hour behind the fleeting breath, / Later by just an hour than death,- / Oh lagging yesterday! (DICKENSON)

Being your slave, what should I do but tend / Upon the hours and times of your desire? / I have no precious time at all to spend, / Nor services to do, until you require. (SHAKESPEARE)

There's weakness, and strength both redundant and vain; / Such strength as, if ever affliction and pain / Could pierce through a temper that's soft to disease, / Would be rational peace-- a philosopher's ease. (WORDSWORTH)

I'm just your average sixteen-year-old girl living in the usually-sparkling fantasy world of a temperamental first grader. I enjoy long walks in someone else's imagination and reading existential nonsense. My hobbies include constructing long-winded complaint letters that no one ever reads, crocheting scarves that somehow always come out exactly wrong, writing bad fanfiction with the depth of a wade pool, and organizing my bookshelves. I haven't decided yet if I'm a pessimist or optimist.

My current obsessions include Harry Potter (for its versatility), the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (for its... wit?), The Little Mermaid (for its innocence), Peter Pan (for its honesty), To Kill A Mockingbird (for its insight; reserving judgment on its sequel), Michael Crichton (for his clever storytelling), Doctor Who (for its wonder and awe), Benedict Cumberbatch (for his face), and red hair (for my love/hate relationship with it and my inability to see anything else past the holes in my memory).

I may put up a story eventually, but it's a mad, mad world and I give you no guarantees.

AND THEY SHALL LET THE BROKEN BEND ONCE MORE.