viela was here

You wanna know what I think? You're too soft! Malleable! Any person in the world could turn you into whatever shape they want, and you'll let them. You have no true form! You're entirely dependent. You need your life dictated, or you'll remain stagnant—unmoving, like a rock. A malleable rock, that's what you are!

I may not believe in God, but I believe in you. And therefore I speak to Him through you. Through the transitive property of equality, if "A" equals "B" and "B" equals "C", therefore "A" equals "C". Reason and faith in harmony. Isn't that why we're so good together?

My darling, you are the poetry in every song that I write. You are my constant sun and my brightest moonlight. My love for you is as unquantifiable as the stars scattered across the night sky.

Yours, yours. I was painted for you.

And in the midst of our dying, as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn’t touch.

The ocean loved her so immensely it kissed her throat and gently rocked her body to sleep.

The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.

I want to know everything and remain unknown to the world.

You murdered me long ago, and the part of me that somehow lives, teetering on the edge of death, will forever loathe you for not finishing the job clean.

When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you are the reason it has become so mangled.

I have so little real life that I can count moments like these on the fingers of one hand; I can't help reproducing them again in my dreams. I shall dream about you all night, all week, all year.

Father, I don't like you. Not as a person, a father, or a husband. I respect your achievements, but you do not inspire me. I don't want to become who you are now. I don't even aspire to surpass you, as that would mean becoming like you and worse. I want to be your complete opposite. I may love you, but I don't like you.

I dreamt of you, over and over again, until you were in front of me. But still, you weren't. You were only a nightmare.

He wants to say: You're beautiful when you sleep. But she's not sleeping. She could be dying.

Tragedies made her feel something, everything. She loved it too much she turned her life into one. It wasn't so tragic after all.

I only wish to wake up next to you every morning, come home to you every afternoon, sleep with you every night, and just love you in all the in-betweens.

They created a strange tableau: rabid boy, trapped girl, bombed-out building. It suggested a tale that could only end in tragedy. Star-crossed lovers meeting their fate.