"The strongest oak of the forest is not the one that is protected from the storm and hidden from the sun. It’s the one that stands in the open where it is compelled to struggle for its existence against the winds and rains and the scorching sun."
“What kills love? Only this: Neglect. Not to see you when you stand before me. Not to think of you in the little things. Not to make the road wide for you, the table spread for you. To choose you out of habit not desire, to pass the flower seller without a thought. To leave the...
Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.
~ Jodi Picoult
I can only offer you my heart
and the secrets recorded on my skin.
Let them find us holding hands
and in crowded airports
celebrating a life composed of stolen moments
because that is where love is born.
~ Gibson Grand
I honestly find it hard to believe that everyone is an amazingly witty, sarcastically edged, unbelievably sexual, philosophical genius. Because I’m just a girl. I’m a girl living with my own weaknesses, sometimes strengths, problems and issues, thoughts and emotions.
“You see, I know you through and through. I know exactly what you want. You want me to tell you what I know….I want like hell to tell you. But I can’t. I quite literally can’t. Because, don’t you see, what I know is what I am? And I can’t tell you that. You have to...
Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.
I'm almost never attracted to people purely on a physical level. I’m really attracted to people with crazy minds that they are a little psychotic and twisted, and people who feel new, like they have dropped of planet Xenon and landed in my life. ~Unknown
I go through phases. Somedays I feel like the person I'm supposed to be, and then somedays, I turn into no one at all. There is both me and my silhouette. I hope that on the days you find me and all I am are darkened lines, you still are willing to be near me...
~Mary Kate Teske...
We think we’re made of numbers. percentages on tests, pounds on a scale, likes on a photo, price tags on clothes. but we’re not. we are made of love and happiness and they way we laugh. we’re made of good memories and late nights and past-curfews. we have more...
I’ve spent most of my life and most of my friendships holding my breath and hoping that when people get close enough they won’t leave, and fearing that it’s a matter of time before they figure me out and go.
I imagine you working on me as an algebra problem, reducing me to fractions, crossing out common denominators, until there’s nothing left on the page but a line that says x = whatever it is that is wrong with me.
Sometimes I feel like I'm not... solid. I'm hollow. There's nothing behind my eyes. I'm a negative of a person. It's as if I never - -I never thought anything. I never wrote anything. I never felt anything. All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.
Until you heal the wounds of your past, you are going to bleed. You can bandage the bleeding with food, with alcohol, with drugs, with work, with cigarettes, with sex; But eventually, it will all ooze through and stain your life. You must find the strength to open the wounds...
Follow the tugs in your heart. I think that everyone gets these gentle urges and should listen to them. Even if they sound absolutely insane, they may be worth going for.
— Victoria Moran
...admittedly I feel the tug now and again...but...i can't say i'm always good at...
I’m someone who's mostly dead inside but still has a little hope for something extraordinary, which, as I said, is the worst breed of human, because it means I know everything is bullshit, but that I secretly hope for the day when it might not be. - Nick Miller
Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it. If I wanted to detach completely, I would move my body away. I would stop the conversation midsentence. I would leave the bed. Instead, I hover over it for a second. I glance off in another...
"I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often."
— Charles Bukowski
There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall.
~Sidonie Gabrielle Colette