“At times this thought makes me arid, if the vibe was mutual, why is this reminiscence one sided.”

And then there are people who try to fix themselves by fixing others only to end up more unfixed than ever.

You surrender to instantaneous instincts then mourn over becoming a slave.

Don’t tell me to not daydream. That’s the only place where I live and don’t think.

What more is loneliness if not the longing to be understood? The longing to be understood by the self.

Look at us. Always choosing devastation followed enlightenment over spoon fed lessons.

Are disappointing patterns just patterns only? Or are they a mockery of your stupidity?

You hypnotize yourself with memories that were meant to be forgotten, then wonder why destiny never favors you.

Because I have seen a rare kind of peace in the eyes of loners. Because I have heard whispers of battles of the accompanied.

Transient emptiness over irreparable brokenness.

Falling for superficial costs depth its entire existence.

Is it a loss that is still present? Or a presence that seems to be lost?

How is it that the colors don’t seem colorful anymore? How is it that the child in me wants to live yet keeps dying more and more?

And maybe at the end, it’s not about the loss or victory but the moments in which, we put all the efforts into something.

Insincerity masked as maturity is toxicity.

Not all homes are meant to be lived in. Some are meant to be abandoned. Some burnt.

Being sad means being elite for sad can’t be those who struggle to make the two ends meet.

Memory, I realize, can be an unreliable thing; often it is heavily coloured by the circumstances in which one remembers.

As long as one suffers one lives.

There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in.

There’s one fool at least in every married couple.

The Irish are a fair people: They never speak well of one another.

One could not be a successful scientist without realizing that, in contrast to the popular conception supported by newspapers and mothers of scientists, a goodly number of scientists are not only narrow-minded and dull, but also just stupid.

Fashion is the science of appearance, and it inspires one with the desire to seem rather than to be.

Those that were up themselves, kept others low; Those that were low themselves, held others hard; He suffered them to ryse or greater grow; But every one did strive his fellow down to throw.