Ellen Hopkins
I thought fairy tales were lies or worse, promises spoken, yet meant to be broken. Intent is all.
Why
do grown-ups feel
the need to make up
a story, only to later
confess that it was a
lie?
Why look for a prince when frogs are much more common? Why reach for a dream
when
you’re at ease within your nightmares? Why scramble to disguise what your personal
truth is
when reality not only hurts less in the long run, but is most often
the easier path?
