15 quotes found
“How much dust can a body make? Little specks of death. Measuring life in millimeters.”
“It was truebut it was harsh. And it feels like maybe a harsh truth can be as hurtful as a lie.”
“It was true—but it was harsh. And it feels like maybe a harsh truth can be as hurtful as a lie.”
“I wonder if this is how it feels to grow old. Knowing that time is still passing but youre no longer a part of it.”
“Tears sting my eyes once more, building up and rolling over my cheeks with the heat of a dying star. Isnt that what death is? Its forgetting. Its letting go. We make peace with the dead to say good...”
“I dont have to let anyone use me. I dont have to bend the truth. Even if Im not ready to forgive just yet, I dont have to be tied to my scars, to the people who wounded me, or to the anger and fear...”
“Nerve endings. Thats what it all comes down to. Billions of rooted synapses, like trees entwined in erratic soil. Lightning strikes every millionth of a second, the charges scattering across the ga...”
“But when youre a kid, it isnt chaos. Its just a heartbeat. Your house isnt floating through space, it sits on the ground. Once you get old enough you start to see that color is just paint and doors...”
“Maybe the problem with holding onto memories so tightly is that they dont allow us to make room for the future. Maybe the gentle decay of the past is a blessing that dulls the sharp blade of regret...”
“Every heartbeat a syllable for words I cant speak, to explain what I want from him. What I want from myself. To know and be known, totally and completely. To be someone worth knowing.”
“I don’t have to let anyone use me. I don’t have to bend the truth. Even if I’m not ready to forgive just yet, I don’t have to be tied to my scars, to the people who wounded me, or to the anger and ...”
“Nerve endings. That’s what it all comes down to. Billions of rooted synapses, like trees entwined in erratic soil. Lightning strikes every millionth of a second, the charges scattering across the g...”
“But when you’re a kid, it isn’t chaos. It’s just a heartbeat. Your house isn’t floating through space, it sits on the ground. Once you get old enough you start to see that color is just paint and d...”
“Maybe the problem with holding onto memories so tightly is that they don’t allow us to make room for the future. Maybe the gentle decay of the past is a blessing that dulls the sharp blade of regre...”
“Every heartbeat a syllable for words I can’t speak, to explain what I want from him. What I want from myself. To know and be known, totally and completely. To be someone worth knowing.”
