That’s why writers write – to say things loudly with ink. To give feet to thoughts; to make quiet, still feelings loudly heard.
I like pain. I like when it lingers. It reminds a person of what they’ve lived through.
Human eyes are the sign language of the brain. If you watch them carefully, you can see the truth played out, raw and unguarded.
When life kicks me, I kick it back.
Maybe lifting someone else’s weight makes yours a little more bearable.
We are lovers, fear and I. She calls to me, and I let her in.
Bad things happen because we live in a world with evil.
A man is only as good as what he loves most, right?
We are all so broken. Pick up a person, shake them around and you’ll hear the rattling of their broken pieces. Pieces our fathers broke, or our mothers, or our friends, strangers, or our loves.
You never quite stop loving someone when you’re in that deep.
It’s the worst form of torture a person can imagine-the wait to die.
How could you forget someone you loved even if I did rip his heart to shreds?
You have to be willing to be happy. Despite the mess of your life-just accept what’s happened, throw away your ideals, and create a new map of happiness to follow.
I’ve been all three. And now I’m undecided.
Women hold all the power. They should use it like a whip, not offer it up like a sacrifice.
You couldn’t get rid of the past. You couldn’t ignore it, or bury it, or throw it over the balcony. You just had to learn to live beside it. It had to peacefully co exist with your present. If I could figure out how to do that, I could be okay.
You must not let hatred destroy you. You will lose your soul.
I didn’t eat pork either. Except bacon, of course. Everyone eats bacon.
The sum of all the things we shouldn’t have done in our lives is enough to kill us with the weight.
My name is Leah, and I will do anything to keep my husband.