Needle and thread flesh and bone Spit and sinew, heartbreak is home. Your suture lines, they sparkle like diamonds Bright stars to light my confinement "Stitch.
I think you're the sort of person who finds money on the ground and waves it in the air and asks if anyone has lost it. I think you cry in movies that aren't even sad because you have a soft heart, though you don't let it show. I think you do things that scare you, and that makes you braver than those adrenaline junkies who bungee-jump off bridges.
It would’ve been easier to die. It’s not that I want to be dead now. I don’t. I have a lot in my life that I get satisfaction from, that I love. But some days, especially in the beginning, it was so hard. And I couldn’t help but think that it would’ve been so much simpler to go with the rest of them. But you—you asked me to stay. You begged me to stay. You stood over me and you made a promise to me, as sacred as any vow.
Letting go. Everyone talks about it like it's the easiest thing. Unfurl your fingers one by one until your hand is open.
C'est courageux d'aller dans l'inconnu': It is courageous to go into territory unknown.
I force my eyes upward and look at Mia for the first time. She's still beautiful. Not in an obvious Vanessa LeGrande or Bryn Shraeder kind of way. In a quiet way that's always been devastating to me. Her hair, long and dark, is down now, swimming damply against her bare shoulders, which are still milky white and covered with the constellation of freckles that I used to kiss. The scar on her left shoulder, the one that used to be an angry red weld is silvery pink now. Almost like the latest rage in tattoo accessories. Almost pretty.
Sometimes fate or life or whatever you want to call it, leaves a door a little open and you walk through it. But sometimes it locks the door and you have to find the key, or pick the lock, or knock the damn thing down. And sometimes, it doesn’t even show you the door, and you have to build it yourself.
Her hands were freezing, just like they always were, so I warmed them, just like I always did.
Are you happy in your misery? Resting peaceful in desolation? It’s the final tie that binds us The sole source of my consolation" “blue
The clothes are packed off to Goodwill I said my good-byes up on the hill The house is empty, the furniture sold Soon your smell will decay to mold Don't know why I bother calling, ain't nobody answering Don't know why I bother singing, ain't nobody listening "Disconnect" Collateral Damage, Track 10
About being grateful for what you have instead of yearning for what you think you want.
I don't really care. I shouldn't have to care. I shouldn't have to work this hard. I realize now that dying is easy. Living is hard.
If these walls could talk, I wonder what secrets they'd tell.
Please Mia," he implores. "Don't make me write a song.
I realize now that dying is easy. Living is hard.
I want to make her cry and then lick up the tears.
But seventeen is an inconvenient time to fall in love.
She said if she couldn't play, she had nothing left. What about me?
You can have your wishes, your plans, but at the end of the day, it's out of your control -Mia
Even going to jail would be easy compared to losing you.
I recognized that the kiss was a door I had walked through.
Forgivenesss: It's a miracle drug. It's God's miracle drug.
You have to fall in love to be in love, but falling in love isn't the same as being in love
In the calculus of feelings, you never really know how one person's absence will affect you more than another's.
...the world feels so big when you're out in the wide open. It's like you don't have a place in it when you don't have a home." "Your place is right here," I whispered, laying down and hugging her close.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: