How much dust can a body make? Little specks of death. Measuring life in millimeters.

I wonder if this is how it feels to grow old. Knowing that time is still passing but you’re no longer a part of it.

It was true—but it was harsh. And it feels like maybe a harsh truth can be as hurtful as a lie.

Every heartbeat a syllable for words I can’t speak, to explain what I want from him. What I want from myself. To know and be known, totally and completely. To be someone worth knowing.

During my life journey I've discovered an interesting thing once you stop seeking outside you discover what already resides within.

I don't trust my mind for everyday thinking, but I am convinced that it has one very great function, which is to eventually make me aware of astounding things.

They had to be untrustworthy enough to buy a minor alcohol but trustworthy enough to not walk away with my money.

The shadow of the passions of the moment transversed this grand and gentle spirit occupied with eternal things.

... We [can't] escape the influence of sin in the world, but [do] we have to pay money to see and hear it firsthand?

I remember feeling all right with myself until age 13. Then, I was getting off the bus one day and this guy called me Miss Piggy. That was the first time I ever really felt like I wasn't okay.

The harder you try to control your girlfriend the further you'll drive her away, so stop acting like a dumbbell.

Big money seeks out the company of its own, for purposes of reproduction.

Immortality is the only thing which doesn't tolerate being postponed.

Those smutty books sell because women wish their husbands had half the balls the men in those books do.