We cry survivor to survivor.
What you’re feeling now, and the person you may reach with your words five years from now-that’s why you write poetry.
Death. The only thing inevitable in life.
Should it matter what genre it is if the book is good?
She doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t have to. I know in these moments, when it’s just her and me and nothing else, that she truly, soul-deep loves me.
You did everything you could, but sometimes all the love in the world from mothers and brothers isn’t enough to help pull someone out of their nightmare. We just need to accept that things are what they are, and all the guilt and regret in the world can’t change that.
Be accepting. Of everything. People’s differences, their similarities, their choices, their personalities. Sometimes it takes a variety to make a good collection. The same goes for people.
My body is a damn traitor.
You only miss the idea of him. You weren’t happy with him even before you found out he was cheating. You were only with him because it was comfortable. You miss the relationship, but you don’t miss Hunter.
But everything wrong with her is everything that draws me in and makes her perfect. She’s flat-out rude to me and I love it. She’s stubborn and I love it.
I’ve learned some thing about my heart. It can break. It can ripped apart. It can harden and freeze. It can stop. Completely. It can shatter in to million pieces. It can explode. It can die. The only thing that made it start beating again? The moment you open your eyes.
I hold still against her, taking one final look at this amazing, beautiful girl beneath me. “You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to my life,” I whisper.
Devastated should be reserved for mothers.
There’s nothing like the guilt you feel when there’s room in your heart to love evil.
Those are the hardest pieces of all to accept. The pieces of our puzzle That just don’t belong.
I’ve lost a lot in my long life. Yes, I’ve seen pain and I’ve seen strife. But I’ll never give up; I’ll never let go. Because I’ll always have my ray of hope.
Ridge: Better. I can’t hear my own farts, so sometimes I’ll forget that other people can hear them.
I suppose if a man lived through the ugliest side of love, he might never want to experience it again.
It’s the clear headedness behind her voice and the calm reasonable expression in her eyes that rips my heart right out of my chest. She turns to leave and all I can do is let her go. I just let her go.
After our next date, we’ll be spending most of our time making out, so we need to get all the questions out of the way now.