“One day I will fall gracefully to pieces. Until then, I’ll just fall.”

On paper I have killed you a thousand times but my heart disregards clever words.

He left love letters at my door, and a chalk outline on the highway.

How recklessly we turn from strangers and blindly back to lovers, to nothing.

He was all dangerous eyes and beautiful lies, but I ached. for him to lie to me some more.

Some souls were never meant to be content.

I like you here, between commas, where the only thing you can break now, is my lines.

He was everything I never could, but always wanted to love.

You love so perfectly, as if you have never been told a heart can be broken.

I still pick at these memories of you; I pick them until they bleed.

The deepest pain I ever felt was denying my own feelings to make everyone else comfortable.

You can’t tame a girl who has her head. In the clouds and one foot out the door.

Every now and then even the sweetest souls burn it to the ground, just to remind the rest of them who exactly they are fucking with.

Pleasure or pain; I’ll take either as long as it is laced with passion.

I could lose myself in you or die blissfully, trying.

I drink to the ones that can sit with their souls and not wish for sleep and the nightmares it brings.

I swear if I were to rip myself open, it wouldn’t be blood that poured out of me, it would be him.

God has given to man no sharper spur to victory than contempt of death.

Have I played the part well? Then applaud as I exit.

You smile upon your friend to-day, To-day his ills are over; You hearken to the lover’s say, And happy is the lover. ‘Tis late to hearken, late to smile, But better late than never: I shall have lived a little while Before I die for ever.

The life of this world and the hereafter, in the heart of a person are like the two scales of a balance, when one becomes heavier, the other becomes lighter

I came to see a king, not a row of corpses.

Let us ease the Roman people of their continual care, who think it long to await the death of an old man.

My father was a film-maker. He always said he wanted to go like Humphrey Jennings, the legendary director who stepped backwards over a cliff while framing a better shot.

The only true infidelity is for a live man to vote himself dead.