Scars are but evidence of life," Coquette said. "Evidence of choices to be learned from...evidence of wounds...wounds inflicted of mistakes...wounds we choose to allow the healing of. We likewise choose to see them, that we may not make the same mistakes again.

— Marcia Lynn McClure

She moves like beauty, she whispers to us of wind and forest—and she tells us stories, such stories that we wake in the night, dreaming dreams of a lifelong past. She reminds us of what we used to be. She reminds us of what we could be.

— Meagan Spooner

Something strange started to rage inside me, hearing you inhale sharply as I tried to kiss those scars away or etch them deeper into your skin, wanting to mark you in an entirely different way.

— D.S. Wrights

The boy I fell madly in love with – the boy made entirely of goodness and light – has been snuffed out by the bloodthirsty creature that glowers before me.

— Alyson Noel

The cat is Beauty and the Beast, a baffling blend, a wicked feast. For all who dream of varied light, the cat holds both the dark and bright.

— Wendy Beck

The final entity was the beast. The steel juggernaut that raked claws made of screams along the bones of their soul. All of the pain that Mango had endured as a child had never left his mind. That pain had created a sort of primordial ooze in his fractured mind that sloshed and bled until the beast was birthed from the suffering. The beast lived in a cage forged of willpower deep in the recesses of the mad matrix of his splintered mind. It rattled the cage and roared for release, but he was loath to ever set the beast loose…again.

— Cedric Nye

There is a beast within my heart. She plays immaculately with the beauty in my soul.

— Melody Lee

There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs.

— George R.R. Martin

The rising of birds in their flight is the sign of an ambuscade. Startled beasts indicate that a sudden attack is coming.

— Sun Tzu

THE WEATHER OF LOVELoveHas a way of wilting Or blossoming At the strangest, Most unpredictable hour. This is how love is, An uncontrollable beastie the form of a flower. The sun does not always shine on it. Nor does the rain always pour on it Nor should it always get beaten by a storm. Love does not always emit the sweetest scents, And sometimes it can sting with its thorns. Water it. Give it plenty of sunlight. Nurture it, And the flower of love will Outlive you. Neglect it or keep dissecting it, And its petals will quickly curl up and die. This is how love is, Perfection is a delusional vision. So love the person who loves you Unconditionally, And abandon the one Who only loves you Under favorable Conditions.

— Suzy Kassem