Librarians were like guardian angels, with graying hair and beady eyes, magnified through reading glasses, and always read to recommend new literary windows to gaze through.
A daughter is a rainbow – a curve of light through scattered mist that lifts the spirit with her prismatic presence. Is a shadow – a reminder of something brilliant ducking out of sight, too easily drawn away. She is an aria, swelling within the concern chamber, an echo reverberating across a miniature sea. She is a secret, whispered, a hint of what we cannot know until it finds us. She is a sliver of her father, a shard of her mother. A daughter is a promise, kept.
Love’ is safe. ‘In love’ is reckless. Alive.
Dream bigger before you can’t remember to dream at all.
I felt so fine I didn’t once overanalyze the perfect emotion, budding inside. The one I’d always feared most.
Maybe crazy is preferable to staying strong when you just want to break down and weep.
I wonder if what I did made her hurt as much as she hurt me. Only fair, to trade hurt. But life isn’t fair.
Aunt Cora says it’s my aura. “I see them, you know. Yours is dark. Sort of like black coffee, although it fluctuates. Sometimes there are little flecks of gold. If you could make those coalesce, turn your aura more toffee than coffee, things would be different.
I’m holding Eden in my hands, and it makes me glad there is no God to take this garden away from me.
Hurt. Enough to want to make someone else hurt too.
It wants, but does not demand. It asks, but doesn’t take. It gives, and pleads for more. It is filled with desire, but also curiosity, and it teaches me that a kiss should come gift wrapped, not stripped naked.
From what I’ve seen, love isn’t about mutual respect. It’s more concerns with control than sacrifice. And I wonder whether it’s better or worse when love finally walks away.
At that exact moment, every single thing about my life changed. Forever.
A problem is really just a solution in need of a reason to exist. If you think about it, life would be kind of boring if it were completely free of friction.
Pray you could somehow stop the uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain...
Two huge questions keep dangling in front of you, like proverbial carrots in front of the donkey. One: Do you want love? And two: Are you able to give it? Either you’re terrified of the emotion or you’re a sociopath.
Even as a kid I had to be the adult.
Love isn’t invincible. Some people take advantage of that.
Why is mania bad, if it means you’re on top of the world, where everything is white? Bright.
Rules are part of our lives. Only children and fools believe they’re immune.