“Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”

This is good for you. Death is a thing of beauty, and it needs to be executed in such a way that does it justice.

If you are afraid of darkness, you are afraid of your own soul.

I part my lips, but no words come out. I want to cry. Want to beg. Want to scream. But mostly, I want to hold him until I know he’s going to be okay. Then I want him to hold me until I’m okay, too.

Her soul was too deep to explore by those who always swam in the shallow end.

Submissive, sure, but someone who wants it all the same.

I felt it. I heard the snap of my heart tearing in half. It wasn’t a messy, dirty rip like I’d expected, but a smooth, clean line that knew just where to break to hurt me the most.

Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.

Pushing out a breath, I lean against the wall and slide to the floor. I sit beside her for as long as it takes. Listening until her sobs fade and the shower turns on.

Come to me in pieces and exist inside me whole.

I never knew hell would be so spick-and-span.

Instead of ignorance, I tasted what it might be like to finally be me. I didn’t give a show this time. I had no plan, no calculations. No scolding voice inside my head. For a little while, I was free.

The prince of darkness is a gentleman.

She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire.

Art is a private piece of me.

There’s a reason we only hire blondes.

I suppose it was easier to pretend I didn’t exist than it was to exorcise my demons.

Blemishes are hid by night and every fault forgiven; darkness makes any woman fair.

I think perhaps I will always hold a candle for you – even until it burns my hand. And when the light has long since gone I will be there in the darkness holding what remains, quite simply because I cannot let go.

The darkest night always ends in morning light.

Our eyes are at fault, that is all. God is in the manger, wealth in poverty, light in darkness, succor in abandonment.

I never believed in Santa Claus because I knew no white dude would come into my neighborhood after dark.

The real frienship is like fluorescence, it shines better when everything has darken.

Did you know that in New Orleans they still have brown bag parties? What’s that, you ask? You and I go to a party, and when we get to the door, there’s a brown bag hanging down from the ceiling, and if our skin is darker than the brown bag, we can’t go in.

Let me light my lamp , says the star, And never debate if it will help to remove the darkness