" I remember dying a slow, painful death, the kind that leaves you hating the world. I was like a worm. I wove myself a cocoon of dragon scales and there I stayed. ... I shunned emotion, hated all, and embraced logic. I was cold and callous. I had given up. While the trees withered and died, so did I. I turned my heart to stone that autumn. "

― Angela B. Chrysler , Broken