"It’s such a shame to waste time. We always think we have so much of it."
"She likes to disappear a lot. We always know when something is bothering her. She’ll put on her combat boots and pull her hair back, then she’ll grab her purse and just walk out the door. No one stops her. Ever. We all know she’ll come back when she feels better.
She writes a lot. And although no one knows what she writes about, we know that it helps her. She also likes to pick flowers and send them to people that live in other places. And every morning, she has two or three cups of coffee.
Her fears get in the way of her being happy most of the time. Her scars are noticeable and we don’t say anything about them. She’s not unhappy all the time, though. Making her blush and smile is easier than you think. You just have to know what to say at the right time.
She changes a lot. her mind, her clothes, her hair. It’s never the same for more than a few months. Like a snake shedding its skin.
Some people love that about her, and some people hate it."
"Head on quiet lap,
with fingers in sleeping hair,
I fell into you."
Banksy piece in London, they covered it up with glass to preserve it , so sick.
"It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. I was so preposterously serious in those days… Lightly, lightly – it’s the best advice ever given me…So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling…"
"I have given God countless reasons not to love me. None of them has been strong enough to change Him."
"I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds."