“There’s nothing more dishonest than words.”

I don’t want to hide. Not from you.

My eyes shut as the fire in my lungs reaches my throat.

If there ever was a time not to be fragile, this is it.

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.

Darkness watches me from every angle. My only friend. From its own place within the silence, it speaks to me in a strange way.

I never claimed to be a predator, but right now she’s certainly the prey.

He was unhinged. Shameless. Everything wrong and everything right. And he held the key to my cage in his palm.

I may be unhinged, but I’m constantly working to channel my urges. It never stops, the self-restraint, the need for more.

It’s just a question. A question whose answer no longer has the power to hurt me.

Maybe I’ve dragged myself through the mud since then, but even mud hardens beneath your shoes. I must be standing on a mountain of it by now. And no one can touch me from way the hell up here.

Heartache is my constant companion, and we’re perfect for one another. Two co-dependent peas in a pod. My past and my future.

Gifts are meant to be wrapped. Honestly, it’s basic etiquette.

Hatred’s the fuel that keeps me alive.

I quickly learned I needed someone who specifically enjoyed, or at the very least could take it, when I hit that point of blinding release. Every time, I lost all sense of the control I work so hard at maintaining.

We have no use for people who don’t want to be here.

Doesn’t he know I want everything? And in return, I’ll give him all of me.

An honest man, armed with all the knowledge available to us now, could only state that in some sense, the origin of life appears at the moment to be almost a miracle, so many are the conditions which would have had to have been satisfied to get it going.

An honest man here lies at rest, the friend of man the friend of truth the friend of age and guide of youth. Few hearts like his with virtue warmed, few heads with knowledge so informed. If there’s another world, he lives in bliss. If there is none, he made the best of this.

I figure that if God actually does exist, he is big enough to understand an honest difference of opinion.

Dare to be honest and fear no labor. … Opera is where a man gets stabbed in the back, and instead of dying, he sings.

So many of our conversations (about affirmative action) have been dishonest

The honest man, though e’er sae poor, Is king o’ men, for a’ that!

It’s always best to tell the truth.

I don’t subscribe to the thesis, ‘Let the buyer beware,’ I prefer the disregarded one that goes, ‘Let the seller be honest.’