Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
The marks humans leave are too often scars.
It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee?
One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can’t utter.
Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host.
But in the end one needs more courage to live than to kill himself.
Life should be lived to the point of tears.
If one’s different, one’s bound to be lonely.
Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things.
Life is a constant process of dying.
Human life must be some form of mistake.
Our life is a loan received from death with sleep as the daily interest on this loan.
I don’t know how to live well. I only know how to suffer.
Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before – more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.
Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you’ll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.
This was freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.
This is your life and its ending one moment at a time.
You’re always haunted by the idea you’re wasting your life.
I prefer to cry alone. Pride? No. I just want to avoid the judgement of people who don’t know the reason for my tears.