I'm an open book instead

There’s nothing beautiful about tearing yourself apart for someone else.

“We walked past each other today, what a love story.”

People who try hard to do the right thing always seem mad.

She smiled and told him about her life. He loved her for it. Her heart was happy and open, and she was free as any beautiful thing should be.

In looking out upon the world, we forget that the world is looking at itself.

Close some doors today. Not because of pride, incapacity, or arrogance, but simply because they lead you nowhere.

There are rare people who will fuel the fire inside of you, who will awaken a dormant passion, who will push you and better you. She alone is my rarity.

He knew that I love you also means I love you in a way that no one loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that I love no one else, and never have loved anyone else, and never will love anyone else.

‘It’s just…I don’t always say what I feel.’ 'Why not?’ 'Because the truth sometimes hurts,’ I said.

You should know by now that nothing I say stays the same for very long.

This is why it hurts the way it hurts. You have too many words in your head. There are too many ways to describe the way you feel. You will never have the luxury of a dull ache. You must suffer through the intricacy of feeling too much.