And you kissed my forehead and shook your head and didn’t let me go. And I resent you for that. For giving me those brief good moments even when things were at their worst. Because now that’s what I remember. And that’s what I think of.

Imagine I could lie down beside you and my whole body, every cell, radiates a clear, singular meaning, not so much a writer as a word pressed down beside you.

i don't want your love unless you know i am repulsive, and love me even as you know it.

I don't want to go. I don't want to go anywhere where I'll forget her. I'm afraid if I go back out, I'll die without her.

one point two and five more blues. is it alright? are we alive? is this existence or slow suicide?

ANGEL (A tremendous, unearthly voice): SUBMIT, SUBMIT TO THE WILL OF HEAVEN!

In this world, consequence cannot bear the harshness of catastrophe. Mistakes are given lighter punishments. Falling stars shoot through the night sky and occasionally grant wishes of observers below. It is a softer place.

He raises the moon on a crane for effect, cue the violins. That’s what the violins are for.

Too hard, too hurt, too changed. If you're not too much of something then you're not enough you.

I don't know how to quit this.

i feel safe but not like a bet more like the way mothers feel when the lock the car doors in bad neighborhoods.

id like to think that you wouldnt hate me. but who am i kidding? spotlight or no spotlight thats always kind of been your thing- its just kind of funny that its in fashion right now. i never did anything just for a buck back then, and i still wont. dont give up on me.

Because the sunset, like survival, exists only on the verge of its own disappearing. To be gorgeous, you must first be seen, but to be seen allows you to be hunted.

Souls that dream alone lie awake I'll give you something so real

Can love be controlled by advice?

It'll leave him numb, it'll leave him angry. He'll fall behind on his paperwork and live in isolation for half a week. He'll sleep and starve himself and feel nothing, but goddamn, he's no pussy when it comes to stalled neurotransmitters.

So I ran into the night. The night: my shadow growing toward my father.

For a moment they locked eyes.

I fell amongst thousands of stars I looked for you for whole nights amongst them In all my Cosmos, you were a sort of God.

Because I know this is the love Shakespeare wrote his sonnets about. I’ve never even imagined any love like this.