That is the manner in which I roll.
We can always hate that which we loved, and with a fire as great as our love once was.
Is this what it means to die? Lucas thought. Because I’m not scared of it anymore. Not if it means I finally get this close to you.
I meant it when I said I didn’t believe in love at first sight. It takes time to really, truly fall for someone. Yet I believe in a moment. A moment when you glimpse the truth within someone, and they glimpse the truth within you. In that moment, you don’t belong to yourself any longer, not completely. Part of you belongs to him; part of him belongs to you. After that, you can’t take it back, no matter how much you want to, no matter how hard you try.
I would love you in any shape, in any world, with any past. Never doubt that.
Now I know grief is a whetstone that sharpens all your love, all your happiest memories, into blades that tear you apart from within. Something has been torn out from inside me that will never be filled up, not ever, no matter how long I live. They say “time heals,” but even now, less than a week after my father’s death, I know that’s a lie. What people really mean is that eventually you’ll get used to the pain. You’ll forget who you were without it; you’ll forget what you looked like without your scars.
We can’t begin to learn until we admit how much we don’t know.
Ten thousand skies, and a million worlds, and it still wouldn’t be enough for me to share with you. Nothing less than forever will do.
I see... the way you’re always searching. How much you hate anything fake or phony. How you’re older than your years, but still... playful, like a little girl. How you’re always looking into people, or wondering what they see when they look back at you. Your eyes. It’s all in the eyes.
This, I think, is the boundary line of adulthood. Not the crap they claim it is- graduating from high school or losing your virginity or getting your first apartment or whatever. You cross the boundary the first time you’re changed forever. You cross it the first time you know you can never go back.
Lucas should’ve run out of there that instant. Instead he stared at me through the glass and slowly unfolded his hand opposite mine so that our hands were pressed againts the pane of glass, fingers to fingers, palm to palm. We each move closer, so that our faces were only inches apart. Even with the stained glass, window between us, it felt as intimate as any kiss we’d shared.
They say “time heals,” but even now, I know that’s a lie. What people really mean is that eventually you’ll get used to the pain. You’ll forget who you were without it; you’ll forget what you looked like without your scars.
I have no need for a world without you in it.
I can hardly bear to look at him; it’s like staring into the brightness and warmth of the sun, knowing that it’s burning you while understanding that it makes your whole life possible.
Songs and movies tell us that when you meet the one you love, the planet stops spinning, the clouds open up, and your heart begins to sing. Reality is messier than that. The truth is, we meet new people all the time, but we can never tell exactly what they might mean to us. You never know who you’ll forget, or who you’ll need forever.
Because I want you to be happy. With or without me, whatever it takes.” Theo sighs. “That’s the difference between wanting someone and loving them.
The most powerful presence in the room is his absence.
I want you when it’s crazy, when it’s frightening, when it’s impossible, because there’s nothing within you that could hurt me half as much as not having you.
Traveling through the worlds gives you perspective. It makes you value what you have.
The opposite of faith isn’t doubt. The opposite of faith is certainty.