the words, they whisper

Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to prepare to pick up the pieces when it’s all over.

"I don’t want your love unless you know I am repulsive, and love me even as you know it."

You must not reduce yourself to a puddle just because the person you like is afraid to swim and you are a fierce sea to them; because there will be someone who was born with love of the waves within their blood, and they will look at you with fear and respect.

When you are used to the kind of life—of never getting anything you want—you stop knowing what it is you want.

I wish I had the courage not to fight and doubt everything. I wish, just once, I could say: ‘This. This is good enough.’

The Buddhists say if you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that’s not the one. When you meet your ‘soul mate’ you’ll feel calm. No anxiety, no agitation.

I don’t care if it’s a sad good-bye or a bad good-bye, but when I leave a place I like to know I’m leaving it.

I will be wild. I will be brutal. I will encircle you and conquer you. I will be more powerful than your boats and your swords and your blood lust. I will be inevitable.

Everyone’s pretty much the same— we’re all just fucked up individuals.

So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.

“If you are not the hero of your own story, then you’re missing the whole point of your humanity.”

Every word has consequences. Every silence, too.