I've done it all before, I tell myself, and I can do it again. Trust is the strongest weapon.
Don't you miss it?" I say. "Being free." He laughs.
There is warmth shooting through my broken body where there should be pain, and I put my arms around the back of his neck and I hold on to him. I hold on because you never know in this place when something good will be taken away.
...maybe hope isn't such a bad thing. Maybe it's what keeps us together.
There's a sort of dead passion in him. A spark that, had he more years to live, would be a wildfire.
But there’s no such thing as free. There are only different and more horrible ways to be enslaved.
It's best to let her go," he says. No, no, that's wrong. It's never right to give up on someone.
Because even if the lie is beautiful, the truth is what you face in the end.
His three wives are huddled together on the bare mattress, one of them dying; when we're together, we form an alliance he can't touch. He's scared to even try.
Fate,' I said, 'Is a theif.
I wish I had a memory of that first violent shove, the shock of cold air, the sting of oxygen into new lungs. Everyone should remember being born. It doesn't seem fair that we only remember dying.
I figured it out eventually," she says. She's sitting on the edge of the gurney again; her features slowly materialize as my vision clears. "It's momentum." "What?" I whisper. The feeling returning to my lips, spreading out to my fingertips and toes. "Momentum," she repeats. "You can't just stand there if you want something to fly. You have to run.
Write words you’re willing to burn at the stake for. Write words you’d believe in even if the rest of the world didn’t.
You can try to please everyone and risk accomplishing nothing, or go for your dreams and risk pissing a few people off.
I think, in this strange world of beautiful things, there may be some humanity after all.
Good night, sweetheart," he says. "Good bye, sweetheart," I say. And it's so casual, so innocent that he doesn't suspect a thing.
I liked just being with you. I liked the way you breathed when you were asleep. I liked when you took the champagne glass from my hand. I liked how your fingers were always too long for your gloves.
Linden just wants to protect her, is what I want to say. She's all he has. I left him. I'm at arms reach, but I've left him.
Sometimes we don't know how afraid we are until we've reached a strange door and we don't know what will be on the other side.
The seeds are tiny, unborn things, and I resent them. They'll be planted and they'll grow into exactly what they're meant to be.
Things will get worse before they get better.
We destroy things with our curiosity. We shatter with our best intentions
I wanted so badly to tell him, but something about that entire night seemed so beautiful, so bizarre, that I didn't trust it with my secrets.
He sits next to me, careful to avoid my hair that's splayed out around my head like blood. A bullet to the forehead, boom, blond waves everywhere.
A feeling can't kill you.
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