Last night, I sent you home with a kiss and a promise. I hope you still believe in roses.
STEPHANIE BRIARLove me until oblivion paints your portraits on my eyelids, sinking by eons into distance that never separates us.
More Stephanie Briar Quotes
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When I was a child, I used to fear monsters under the bed. I have since learned that most monsters are found within. And they are always worth fighting.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
Poetry? That’s easy. I just cut the vein, and let it bleed.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
Can hope bloom in the shade? Can time give back what it takes away? I once saw the answers to life in your eyes; now I can remember the words to goodbye.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
The search for external sources is nothing compared to internal forces.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
When you focus on directing your energy away from harm and toward healing, you feed the soul and starve the ego.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
We usually seek the divine in the sky, But religion is best found on the ground. Nature is our true creator.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
You could not keep me fed by throwing me bones and empty promises. I am ashamed to admit how much starving I did before I finally left.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
It quietly stops my breath to realize that my greatest grand gesture, my last, best act of love was to let you go.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
How do you sleep soundly, knowing you traded roses for weeds?
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
I am strong. My heart still hopes. My mind still dreams. My soul still craves pouring energy into everything that I love.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
The stars are where we came from. They orchestrated our return to the place we can always come home: our ancient, timeless love.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
I don’t know how to put my love down, or to keep holding too much of it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
“Ashes”, we once thought, but the embers in our eyes might have bought us time.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
Your darkness does not scare me, nor will I run from you; like a star, I’m falling for the phases of your moon.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
As if flesh and skin and hands are any match for bullets. As if bones won’t crack in hails of powder and lead. As if rivers of blood are not the direct result of trigger fingers that bend but do not break on “bad days”.
STEPHANIE BRIAR






