That Process By Which You Become A

The Prince Is Never Going To Come. Everyone Knows That; And Maybe Sleeping Beauty's Dead.

Sweet To Think On It, That When We Are Last Weary Of All This World There Is The Rising Sun

Without Memory There Can Be No Insight. Without Love, There Can Be No Appreciation.

I Lived Like A Man Who Wanted To Die But Who Had No Courage To Do It Himself.

Mortal Beauty Often Makes Me Ache, And Mortal Grandeur Can Fill Me With That Longing...but Paris, Paris Drew Me Close To Her Heart, So I Forgot Myself Entirely. Forgot The Damned And Questing Preternatural Thing That Doted On Mortal Skin And Mortal Clothing. Paris Overwhelmed, And Lightened And Rewarded More Richly Than Any Promise.