I fell in love with the expression in his eyes when he looked at me.
You should only fall in love with someonewhose arms are open, and strong enough to catch you.
Sometimes we don’t know where we are going until we get there.
Love isn’t about holding on. It’s about letting go.
Nothing looked the same, and everything looked the same.
Because of that, he didn’t know how to love someone who actually loved him. He had learned a twisted, tormented kind of love filled with pain and exploitation.
She averted his eyes, but not before he recognized the pain in them, a tormented and languished gaze, a stare preserved for people who were able to love deeply enough that they could be destroyed by it.
It was a fictional story, but like any good fiction, without the need to adjust or conceal the truth, it actually might bethe greatest expression of truth.
I wanted to feel less.To not be burdened by emotion,To not feel sadness,To not know loss.I envied the inanimate,The trees that stand proudly in winter,Not missing their leaves.
The truth, a truth, and reality are not always the same.
Sometimes the closer you are to the truth, the harder it is to see.
We must love those close to us, all the time, every day. Moments only happen once. Make them matter.
Life is ephemeral; each moment passes quickly, a blur of color on a fast moving subway car. There and gone and all we are left with is the imprint of what once was.
We live and learn, and in betweenwe do the best we can.
We can reach untainted experiential freedom, by living in the moment as it is—without contemplation. Here we find the possibility of freedom—of just being—living as our authentic self. We are our true nature. We are one and whole.
Time is a daunting thing; it’s inescapable. Some moments pass unobserved and others stay with us, remaining frozen, lasting a lifetime…
Sweat dripped down his chest. She never thought she could envy a piece of fabric, until she saw the T-shirt kissing his skin the way she wanted to.
Sometimes, we miss the truth when it’s right in front of us, she thought. Sometimes the closer we are, the harder it is to see.
She would not have another man push her aside like some appetizer, there to wet his whistle only to be left once the main dish arrived.No more. She pushed her thumb into his throat a little harder.
She was the kind of woman a person could die over or kill over.
Love makes people do crazy things. And not feeling loved can bring people to the edge of madness.
Sometimes the truth isn’t obvious; sometimes it exists in the silence, in the emptiness between the spaces, but we’re too afraid to hear it.
I may never fly—in the bird sort of way. But I do have wings.
They continued to run together for the next thirty minutes. Not a word between them, only the unspoken pulse of the run. Jacob believed runners shared an implicit doctrine: push through the pain to hit a point where it doesn’t hurt anymore.
The rest of the short walk was silent. It was that loud sortof silence where the absence is painful, when there’s so much tosay, but nothing is said.