“Not everyone knows what to do when they come across a snowflake in the desert.”

Like I’m a puzzle to be worked out and he’s got all damn day.

Maybe she’d try to understand that the dark images muddled my brain until it hurt, until I had no choice but to let them out.

All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living.

There’s nothing more dishonest than words.

Do not judge my story by the chapter you walked in on.

I’m a bird trapped in a self-made cage.

His eyes close, and he draws a long breath. When they open again, they’re colder than ever. “And that’s where you’d be disappointed, Lou.There is no good to be found in Death.

Eva’s an enigma, and she’s my enigma. My secret. My lifeline.

He’s just as fucked up as the rest of us. Some of us just wear our creep on our sleeves.

Revenge is all my soul knows. It’s the only thing I’ve lived and breathed for almost as long as I can remember.

We both know you won’t touch her. You’re going to force her to be deprived just because you are.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.

Love me like my demons do.

Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people.

You will eventually lose control, and when you do – when you lose every last shred of it until you can’t see red from black, right from wrong—I will be here. Ready to back you up, the way you should be doing for me.

Somewhere along the way, she weaved herself so deeply into my veins I can’t fucking inhale without her breathing life into me.

When a building is about to fall down, all the mice desert it.

They make a desert and call it peace.

Faith, I am no such fool; everyone for himself in this desert of selfishness which is called life.

As our Father makes many a flower to bloom unseen in the lonely desert, [let us] do all that we can do, as under God’s eye, though no other eye ever take note of it.

The deity who stalked the deserts of the Middle East millennia ago-and who seems to have abandoned them to bloodshed in his name ever since-is no one to consult on questions of ethics.

A child raised on a desert island, alone, without social interaction, without language, and thus lacking empathy, is still a sentient being.

The deserts of the Middle East are in need of water, not bombers.

We must go out into a desert of some kind (your backyard will do) and come into a personal experience of the awesome love of God.