All I hear is my own grating thoughts. Is there anything more horrid than being trapped inside yourself with nothing but your own insecurities.
The truth of the matter is that we always know the right thing to do. The hard part is doing it.
I’ve come to realize that you can fight a lot of things in life, but you can’t help who you love. You can’t change who your heart chooses. I’m afraid that very fact will be the greatest tragedy of my life.
What is childhood without stories? And how will children fall in love with stories without bookstores? You can’t get that from a computer.
The definition of a true friend is not someone who swoops in when you’re going through a rough patch. True friendship is when someone can appreciate your happiness – celebrate your happiness, even when she’s not necessarily happy herself.
We’re each given one life, and it’s our job to make it useful, beautiful, and fulfilling. There is no value in suffering through it, doing something we hate. There’s no prize at the end for that kind of endurance. Just a spent life.
I’m no longer willing to let myself down.
The stars have their own language, you know. If you’re careful, you can learn it.
Marriage, my dear, is not suicide.
Great love endures time, heartache, and distance. And even when all seems lost, true love lives on.
Whenever you’re down on your luck, and when things aren’t going the way you like, remember that you are the author of your own story. You can write it any way you like, with anyone you choose. And it can be a beautiful story or a sad and tragic one. You get to pick.
You know, things fall apart. You grieve. And then you sit around and wait for things to somehow get perfect again. But they don’t. They never can. There is no perfect. There’s just different. But different can be wonderful.