But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you
This is what I have to do
'Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
“If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, that face gets uglier and uglier until it gets so ugly you can hardly bear to look at it. A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.”
-Roald Dahl
I do what I can wherever I end up to keep giving my good love and spreading it around. 'Cause I've had my fair share of take care and goodbyes. I've learned how to cry. And I'm better for that.
“Happiness is perfume you can’t pour on others without getting a few drops for yourself”
-Ralph Walso Emerson
Sentimental music has this great way of taking you back. Somewhere at the same time it takes you forward, so you feel nostalgic and hopeful all at the same time.
And you brighten up the world with your eyes, and you're so damn lovely when you're on my mind.
You know I’m gonna find a way to let you have your way with me You know I’m gonna find the time to catch you and, and make you stay
I don’t care what clothes you wear, its time to love and I don’t care
I refuse to believe that love is for the weak. I'm not vulnerable.
stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more and cry less. life must be lived as we go along
Music is a total constant that's why we have such a strong visceral connection to it, you know? Because a song can take you back instantly to a moment, or a place, or even a person. No matter what else has changed in your or the world, that one song says the same, just like that moment
I really enjoy forgetting. When I first come to a place, I notice all the little details. I notice the way the sky looks. The color of white paper. The way people walk. Doorknobs. Everything. Then I get used to the place and I don't notice those things anymore. So only by forgetting can I see the place again as it really is.
I was anchored to something once, but I never wanted to be anchored to someone...maybe that makes me driftwood, but maybe it makes me my own person
I want to bust the world wide open the way you do when you're filled with youth. I want to engage with lovers and people and fellow cops. I want to be physical and I also want to ask the big questions. I want to taste the tastes and fix the problems. I want to run headlong into chaos and bad guys and darkness and friends and fun and laugh, laugh, laugh. I want to be the best friend and I want to be the greatest aunt and the most complicated daughter. I want to be the mystery in the room and I want to be known.
I used to be such a burning example, I used to be so original. I used to care, I was being cared for. Made sure I showed it to those that I love. I used to sleep without a single stir
I love people who have a sense of individuality.
I love expression and anything awkward or imperfect.
Because that’s natural. And that’s real.
When you're at the top, remember what if felt like at the bottom. When you're at the bottom, remember what it felt like at the top. Good doesn't last forever. Neither does bad.
I know he’s not perfect, but he tries so hard for me. And I thank God that he isn’t, cause how boring would that be? It’s the little imperfections, it’s the sudden change in plans. When he misreads the directions, and we’re lost but holding hands. Yeah, I live for little moments like that. When he steals my heart again and doesn’t even know it. Yeah, I live for little moments like that.
don't try to reason with your heart or feelwith your mind. for just as the heart knows no logic, the mind can't lead you to your soul.
We'll lay up on your roof at night, and watch the shooting stars fly by. I'll tell you "Someday I'll take you there". I love the pretty songs you sing, and the way you bring me to my knees with your paralyzing voice.
I started sending you a note on how I hope that you’re happy. I hear you're somewhere in the sand, and how I wish I was an ocean. Maybe then I'd get to see you again.
You know that things aren't going well for you when you can't even tell people the simplest fact about your life, just because they'll presume you're asking them to feel sorry for you. I suppose it's why you feel so far away from everyone. In the end, anything you can think of to tell them just ends up making them feel terrible.
My eyes are painted with regret and I don't need it
it's always cloudy except for when you look into the past.
I have questions for you that I never got the chance to ask: Do you look like you did back then? Would it make a difference anyway? Do you think of me, when you least expect it- when you're unwrapping a garden hose or tilting your face to the shower or making love to someone else? And can you leave it at that, or do you find yourself compulsively sifting through the memories? If I had been the one to leave, would you have written out your heart to me?