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He had no more strength to love her. Alive in him was solely the capacity to suffer because of her, the only thing remaining of love being deprivation and want. She could no longer give him anything but suffering. As for joy, it was dead.

The things that go unsaid are often the things that eat at you – whether because you didn’t get to have your say, or because the other person never got to hear you and really wanted to.

“Imagine choosing nothing at all. Imagine something hurting that bad.”

If you’re me, it’s luxurious to go unobserved. When asked the inevitable question, whether I’d wear eyeliner if I was the last person on earth, no, hell no. Eyeliner is war. When I’m alone I lay my weapons down.

i want to be savagely in love. i want even the wolves to fear the things we do beneath the moon.

Man shouldn’t be able to see his own face – there’s nothing more sinister. Nature gave him the gift of not being able to see it, and of not being able to stare into his own eyes.

The tragedy is not that things are broken. The tragedy is that things are not mended again.

There’s got to be someone for me. It’s not too much to ask. Just someone to be with. Someone to love. Someone to give everything to. Someone.

“suppose the body did this to us, made us afraid of love–”

Then I turned round and saw the sky. It was red and all my life was in it.

Once upon a time, I loved you,