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

My little sunflower god, even the stars worshiped you.

I hope, The storms you encounter are ones only of soft thunder and light rain.

I loved poetry the moment it turned my pain into something beautiful.

We are just broken things pretending to be whole.

And when we hurt someone whose hurt us, do we call it coping or cruelty?

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.

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.

There comes a time when things can work out and everybody can be happy. And that’s what it’s all about in the end – everybody being happy and working it out.

A soldier plods and groans, sweats and toils, he growls and curses, and at the end he dies.

Everyone who wants to do good to the human race always ends in universal bullying.

The cumulative effects of the economic and financial sanctions might well bring the rebellion to an end within a matter of weeks rather than months.

The sexuality doesn’t end. It really doesn’t. You’re sexual your whole life, if you’re a sexual person.

It takes two people to make you, and one people to die. That’s how the world is going to end.

A recipe is a story that ends with a good meal.

I ended up doubling the math time that a conventional school would have. But I don’t think any of these things were path-breaking or unusual.