I’m tired of fighting. For once, I want to be fought for.

Sometimes I don’t even take off my wedding ring when I cheat on my husband.

I hate getting flashbacks from things I don’t want to remember.

My best friend told me he loved me on his death bed.

We never made it, did we?

You keep a lot to yourself because it’s difficult to find people who understand.

I don’t think all writers are sad. I think it’s the other way around– all sad people write.

Do not light yourself on fire trying to keep others warm.

It’s not the fall that kills you. It’s the sudden stop at the end.

Oh but that’s the irony, broken people are not fragile.