"   you had such a thirst for knowledge; and now school has ruined that.   "

"   Find someone who makes you feel drunk when you’re sober   "

"   He looks at her like he just realized what love is.   "

"   The shine has disappeared from your eyes. When he left did he take that with him too?   "

"  

Don’t fall in love with the boy’s who hold your hair back when you’ve drank too much,
Or the ones who take your hand while you’re crying and pray circles into your palms.
Maybe don’t kiss the boy’s who go for midnight walks with you and stay up till 5 am to help you with that final paper due at 8.
Don’t go for the ones that know your worth even when you don’t,
Even when you call them to pick you up because some fuck boy left you with only a few hickeys and no ride home.
Please don’t pay attention to the boy’s who take your self hate and say “you really don’t see yourself the way others see you, do you?”
Oh god.
Just don’t fall in love with them.
Please, just don’t.
Because it’s the ones that kiss your eyelids and stretch marks that fuck you over.
It’s the ones that tell you the truth that bring you to your knees.
It’s the good ones that leave you curled up in a ball for months begging for the bleeding in your gut to stop.
And it’s all because they’re the unforgettable ones.
The boy’s who leave so many marks of love on you that no one can compare.
God knows they’re it.

Fuck.
You were it.

  "

"   She was too quiet, or she was too loud. She took things too seriously, or not seriously at all. She was too sensitive, or too cold-hearted. She hated with every fiber of her being, or loved with every piece of her heart. There was no in-between for her. It was either all or nothing. She wanted everything but settled for nothing.   "

"  

In three years time, you’re standing at the crossroads when you see her. She’s got a brown leather bag hanging off one shoulder, and a pearly white ribbon around her neck. Her head bobs along to a song you can’t hear and you find yourself wondering what she sings in the shower these days - what she listens to before falling asleep. She used to joke that singing wasn’t her forte, and that music wasn’t her strength; but you loved her Sunday morning humming; her smile in your mouth, your fingers in her dress.

She opens her eyes a little wider and then smiles and gives you a wave. There isn’t much time for talking as you walk past each other and the green man begins to flash. You think her hair looks different, not the colour or the style, but the way it frames her face. She doesn’t look so girlish when she says ‘hey’ and offers you a grin.

And when she walks past, you can’t help but turn and watch. You wonder who listens to her talk about the stars at night, or who carries her home when she’s drunk. Three years ago she told you that she loved you. Today you almost say it back.

  "

"   I have the deepest affection for intellectual conversations. The ability to just sit and talk. About love, about life, about anything, about everything. To sit under the moon with all the time in the world, the full-speed train that is our lives slowing to a crawl. Bound by no obligations, barred by no human limitations. To speak without regret or fear of consequence. To talk for hours and about what’s really important in life.   "