“I have an unhealthy obsession with the stars. They remind me of you.”

It’s nameless, this feeling between you and me.

I’ve come to love these moments of sunshine with you.

How can I love again when all your love remains with me.

I hope you know that you are the only thing I have ever craved.

I want you to know that I think of you often between dreams and wishes.

Things end but greater things begin.

I want you to love me like a dream come true.

I was a living breathing nightmare and he was my favorite dream catcher.

And we look the devil in the eyes, take his hand and dance away.

She didn’t want the light at the end of the tunnel. She was perfectly at home in the darkness.

And if I lay in the sun a little longer maybe then, I can burn for something other than him.

I just feel kind of lonely in these moments between moments.

I’m sorry I wasn’t up to your standards but I’m not sorry I didn’t downgrade myself to get there.

Dear Moon, May I glow as brightly as you do, cradled amongst darkness.

Tell me you like to watch the stars tell me you believe in magic.

Her sadness clung to her like a cloak in the whitest of winters.

The bad thing about small-town life is that everybody knows your business…I suppose that is my central obsession. What we owe to society, what we owe to ourselves.

Everything I wore was pink and sparkly. And I had an obsession with headbands. I felt like I rocked them, though!

When I was a child, I probably should have been medicated about my obsession with The Spice Girls.

Sex. In America an obsession. In other parts of the world a fact.

In America, sex is an obsession, in other parts of the world it’s a fact.

I’m not personally obsessed with death. At a certain age, the light that you live in is inhabited by the shades – it ’tis.

To do anything to a high level, it has to be total obsession.

But my principle obsessions are still watching sitcoms and football.