Every woman is both match and spark, a light for each other from the dark.
NIKITA GILLYour body is not a first aid kit for broken people and damaged souls and hearts that are too tired to fix themselves.
More Nikita Gill Quotes
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If we had no fears to master, how else would we grow?
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It has taken me some time to learn that although karma exists, you can let your hatred go, not by destroying your own magic but by letting it grow.
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You can strive to be perfect. Or you can strive to be art.
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There is a difference between holy and pure. Holy is also the way the anger boils inside our throats.
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There is a spell for almost anything and if there’s not a spell, there is at least a poem.
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Does a heart that is rotted cease to be called a heart?
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People talk about love like it is patient and kind. Love is also dark. It is ferocious and angry and destructive.
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You are permitted to be cruel sometimes, and you are allowed to fall apart, and feel every emotion they tell you not to feel.
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Grief makes unlikely warriors out of us all.
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Her mother told her she could grow up to be anything she wanted be, so she grew up to become the strongest of the strong, the strangest of the strange, the wildest of the wild, the wolf leading wolves.
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She takes her life and starts turning it into something beautiful without him. She learns how to love herself in the most intricate of ways. She goes out and spends time with her friends when she is lonely. She learns to love her alone.
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There is a knowing in her, she hears them say, that makes her untamable. She has known since she was a child that she is observant in a way that makes them uncomfortable.
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As leaves cover the forest floor in a carpet of vibrant rusts, orange and gold, autumn proves that sometimes death too can be a beautiful thing.
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We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls and nitrogen in our brains. 93 percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have people names.
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Survival is ugly. Healing is messy. Self-love is complicated.
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Survival is ugly. Healing is messy. Self-love is complicated. It is your hardest days as much as your best days that help you grow. All of this is part of being human.
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Perfection in imperfection. Someone whose flaws work well with yours.
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Some loves come with an expiration date, like all things that are perishable this kind of loves rot.
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Let it hurt. Let it bleed. Let it heal. And let it go.
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People aren’t born sad; we make them that way.
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My darling, he is just a boy. How can he possibly begin to appreciate the constellations you leave in your wake, or the stardust in your bones, when he has yet to realize just what it means to be in love with a girl like you?
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Perhaps he should have paid attention to the snakes coiled inside me waiting to strike.
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You are not his princess; you are your own queen.
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It makes them feel a little free, to kiss something dangerous on the mouth.
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It happens suddenly. One day, your parents don’t pick you up any more.
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It’s how I learn there are a multitude of ways to say I love you. For so many you don’t have to use words at all.
NIKITA GILL