“I wasn’t running away from you. I was running towards myself.”

I don’t like to be called strong. I am just a weak with a side of faith.

I would rather have peaceful isolation than divided freedom. Read that again.

These times are wild but so are we.

I never loved you because you had it all together. I loved you because you were falling apart and still saw fit to let me into your world.

I am not the kind of lost that needs finding. I am the kind of lost that needs healing.

I learned the hard way that not everything in life was meant to be beautiful.

An empath does not sleep. She listens to the wind and wonders if its crying.

Maybe we needed a storm, to miss the peace a little. Maybe we needed the shadows, to remember our beautiful light.

If you only stand for something until it gets uncomfortable, then you never really stood at all.

You are the only song I know all the words to.

How tremendously brave to be shattered in a way that makes stained-glass windows from the pain.

Healing and the resentment cannot live in the same body. One must suffocate to let the other survive.

When darkness came, and it did, I learned that I can scream at the top of my lungs without making any sound at all.

The opposite of growing isn’t being saved. Its finding peace.

I was the storm you could never silence, nor wish away.

I am not the kind of lost that needs finding. I am the kind of lost that needs healing.

You cannot underestimate the sharpness of people’s BS radar. They can spot a soulless, bureaucratic tactic a million miles away.

Love me later when the sun fades into the horizon and the distance between you and I melts away.

The accumulation of skill and science which has been directed to diminish the difficulty of producing manufactured goods, has not been beneficial to that country alone in which it is concentrated distant kingdoms have participated in its advantages.

I felt a tremendous distance between myself and everything real.

Somewhere we know that without silence words lose their meaning, that without listening speaking no longer heals, that without distance closeness cannot cure.

Why is it that a woman can see from a distance what a man cannot see close?

This is war, but we can’t attack just keep your distance.

The noise resembles the roar of heavy, distant surf. Standing on the stirring ice one can imagine it is disturbed by the breathing and tossing of a mighty giant below.