My brother spent a large portion of the agonizingly slow drive to school banging his forehead on the stearing wheel.
Her sound is a siren’s song, calling me to the rocks.
Pride goes before the fall.
I pointed to a low bowl filled with what purported to be stew, but then Noah said, “Are you going to point, or are you going to eat?” “I just like to know what I’m putting in my mouth before I swallow.” Noah arched an eyebrow, and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Go away. I’m smelly. And you bother me enormously.
Be careful what you wish for.
The two of us snuggled like quotation marks in his room full of words.
Just becausse you can’t prove something doesn’t mean it isn’t real.
If you ask the wrong questions, you will get the wrong answers.
Don’t be careful with me,” he said. “Because I won’t be careful with you.
The thing about happiness, though, is that it never lasts.
And that for every negative event or coincidence that has happened since, imagining that you triggered them, that you made them happen makes you feel like you possess a degree of control that you don’t have.
If you expect the worst from people, that’s exactly what you’ll get.
You can’t be fixed. You can’t be saved.
Pain is just a feeling, and feelings aren’t real.
Maybe sometimes we can only see the truth about ourselves if someone shows us where to look.
But when everyone tells you you’re crazy and no one believes you when you swear you aren’t, a small part of you will always wonder if they’re right.
Boys are stupid and girls are trouble.
Everyone’s a little crazy. Some people just hide it better than others.
I would rather die with the taste of you on my tongue than live and never touch you again.
I feel something, I do it. I want something, I take it.