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"<i>There was once an invisible man who had grown tired of being unseen. It was not that he was <b>actually</b> invisible. It was that people had become used to not seeing him.
And if no one sees you, are you really there at all?"</i>
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And if no one sees you, are you really there at all?
"What do you do when your dreams are about to come true?" she asks. "No one ever tells you. They tell you to chase them, but what happens when you actually catch one?"
"You enjoy it. Do your best, try not to be a dick."
— Tu vida no la escribes con palabras — dijo el monstruo — . La escribes con acciones. Lo que piensas no es importante. Lo único importante es lo que haces.
She turns to me sharply. “To live _is_ to fight,” she snaps. “To preserve life is to fight _everything_ that man stands for.” She takes an angry huff of air. “And now her, too, with all the bombs. I fight them every time I bandage the blackened eye of a woman, every time I remove shrapnel from a bomb victim.”
Her voice has raised but she lowers it again. “That's my war,” she says. “That's the war I'm fighting.