dara

Losing a brother is losing a touchstone. How do we measure ourselves without the very criteria it takes to recognize ourselves? When you lose a brother, you lose you.

Is that not grief? Love that poisons itself without the beating heart it's aimed at still here to cleanse it?

The world needs people who care as much as you. That's what's going to save it.

Everyone bleeds, and everyone feels pain, and everyone is here until they're gone. It blurs, and it blurs, and it blurs.

The value of human life isn't measured in the connections they make.

I'd marry you in hell, love.

He had blood in his mouth more often than something sweet, and so that became his favorite meal.

There's no winning a war; there's only starting it, enduring it, and ending it.

Pleasure comes with no judge. It doesn't work on a karmic scale.

A mere statistic in the making; someday, people will look back on these battles and describe them in numbers instead of names.

Two bodies, one heart.

Sometimes people die, swift and sudden, and they don't get to say goodbye; they don't get to pass along a message; they don't get anything, because they are here, and then they're gone, and that's all there is. That's it, and that's all those left behind are left with. No closure. No peace. Nothing.

They cherish each other a lot, maybe even more than they try to rip each other apart.

The best and worst things come in threes.

These days, I climb and grow.

You wanted to be a hero. The fucking hero of the story, right? But in mine, James, you're the villain.

I know you won't remember, but I—I forgive you, sweetheart. It's okay.

Grief never goes away; that's a burden to bear for as long as you live when someone you love doesn't.

Let yourself be scared when you're scared. It just means you care, and that's nothing to be ashamed of.

I don't need everything. Something will do.

They're his. Please. He needs them. He needs his glasses.

Before Regulus ever found the sun in James, Sirius was the brightest light he knew; his guiding star.

I am the smartest person on this cloud.

What's important will always remain so if we make the choice to let it.

We should go into war completely fucking nude. They wouldn't know what to do.

Revenge achieves nothing; at the end, what hurts will still hurt, and you're no closer to peace than you were at the start.

Somewhere out there, long ago, there might have been a softer Remus, one who didn't dive head-first into chaos and violence, one who never had to to survive, one who would feel remorse for the blood staining his hands. But they whipped that out of him. But it died with his mother. But it was muzzled like a dog and left to snarl and foam at the mouth, defiance building until he never misses a chance to bite. But they silenced it, and he has found his voice, and now, now they hear him scream.

I care about myself so much that I'm asking for you, because I need you, alright? I—I need you to be here. I need you to hold me.

There's a war on, and James wants to plan his wedding.

They do that until they don't have to keep doing that, and then do that some more, just because. They kiss lazily, just because. They breathe the same air, just because. They lay there pressed together, just because. They're in love, just because.

Pain manipulates us all, and yet we find ways daily to overcome it.

I lack what those in this genre like to call a deus ex machina.

The angel turns a marvelous shade of red.

Go on, give it a go, I dare you. Torture me out of my fucking head, leave me a smear across the wall, and still—watch—I won't break. I don't break.

Here they are, on the other side of hell, and what do they have to show for it other than the demons they brought with them?

Before her, it could have been you.

The very things they're afraid of, they're made of. They're fit to burst with it, freedom and love clawing on the inside of them and begging to get out.

I was always trying so hard to wait for you. I've just been waiting for you.

A garden that bears no fruit is still a garden.

I'll get to wherever I damn well please, and do whatever I deem suitable to get there, because the difference between you and me is that my brother will always have me.

You exist past this war. You exist for more than the war.

Mirror, mirror sitting before me, which of us could the most miserable be?

Hear me, Hallow is not hollow. Hallow is harmony.

I'm still so in love with you that, sometimes, I think I could kill you myself, just so no one could ever take you away from me. And I think, in my worst moments, I even want to.

Every breath, in and out. I'm with you, you're with me.

I am but your puppet. Go on, then, tell me how you'll make me dance.

I need to be loved for the monster I am just as much as I need to be loved for the monster I'm not.

A toxic waste type of love.

Grief is love, and love shouldn't be done alone.