The broken ones need someone to fight for them even harder.
I don't understand how I can know so little about love and how it works. How I can be so bad at it when it's all I've ever wanted. All I've ever known is about leaving or being left.
You're stubborn- anyone ever tell you that before?
Broken things can be made whole again. Perhaps not as they were before, but maybe stronger this time.
Survivors aren't always the strongest; sometimes they're the smartest, but more often simply the luckiest.
Knowing that this is what it means to live. That this love, this need is what drives us to push and fight and build and grow. That as long as there's hope and love in this world, there will always be the living.
It's funny, most people think that revenge is a passionate affair, driven by rage and pain. But it can't be. Feelings such as those make you weak. They overwrite thought and cause reckless impulses that lead to poor decisions.
You stay safe, You love. You survive. You laugh and cry and struggle and sometimes you fail and sometimes you succeed. You Push.
[In my dream] they slide their lips over my skin, whispering whispering whispering. They tell me their names, they tell me their lives, they tell me their pain...I can't struggle, I can't stop laughing, I can't resist these people who once were.
We're both just human. Nothing more. But also nothing less.
I realize that life is risks. It’s acknowledging the past but looking forward. It’s taking a chance that we will make mistakes but believing that we all deserve to be forgiven.
Sometimes it’s the mistakes that turn out to be the best parts of life,
She must face the forest of her mother’s past in order to save herself and the one she loves.
Life is life. You choose to live it or you do not.
But of course everything presses forward, even as we dig our feet against the reality of it all.
Do you still believe that if you truly want something enough it can happen?" I ask. I think of all the times I wanted to stop the world from spinning, all the times I wanted to go back and start over again. All the things I've wanted to undo or take ...
If your friend really cared about you he wouldn't let you take such risks.
I sit with my knees pulled in tight and my arms wrapped around my shins. I can no longer feel my feet, as if blood refuses to spread so far from my heart.
There is a child - a baby - who long since kicked off her blankets. Her skin is ashen and her mouth open in a perpetual yet silent scream. She isn't old enough to roll over, to sit up, to climb. So she lies there kicking her fat legs against the foot...
the living used to wonder what happened after death. She said that whole religions were born and evolved around this one simple uncertainty.
You think you want love, Mary. You think it is this beautiful gift that does nothing but fill you and make you whole. But you are wrong. Love can be cruel and ugly. It can become dark and cause the deepest pain.
