You need to spend time crawling alone through shadows to truly appreciate what it is to stand in the sun.
Time spent doing whatever it is you do to escape your daily life would be better spent acquiring a life that needs no escape.
I have often believed the pen to be a needle, and ink to be a thread. Each story is an intricately woven tapestry and with each word I invariably sew a piece of myself into the page.
Cancer gave me an understanding of the point of all this. To survive. Most of our lives it is easy but for the moments when it becomes difficult, when accident or sickness or sadness strikes, it's just about remembering one thing. You must simply survive.
We are more than the person who wakes each day. We are the dreams of the previous night and the nightmares of the week before.
When the time comes for you to leave this earth, if it doesn’t become a lesser place with your absence, then you have wasted your life.
We are pushed towards eternal silence from the moment we are born. So when sadness tries to stifle us, we must not give in. We must keep whispering.
A night of crying has silenced me. This morning it seems the whole world is against me. I've never before felt so barren, so empty. I've never before thought the daylight to be ... my enemy. My enemy.
There is greater clarity in the still waters of sadness, something not found in the babbling brooks of more sought after emotions.
Eyes so young, so full of pain ... Two lonely drops of winter rain ... And no tear could these eyes sustain ... For too much had they seen.
It's sad that in a world of billions, people can still feel isolated and alone. Sometimes all it takes to brighten up someone's day is a smile or kind word, or the generous actions of a complete stranger. Small things, the tiny details, these are the things that matter in life — the little glint in the eye, curve of a lip, nod of a head, wave of a hand — such minuscule movements have huge ripple effects.
You smile and draw me near and whisper, Do as dreamers do.I lean to you and whisper in your ear, I cannot dream tonight my Dear. For it is you.
In a corner of my soul there hides a tiny frightened child, who is frightened by a corner where there lingers something wild.
I saw you before. All your flaws, your imperfections. Your body’s going to a lot of trouble to hide something, something inside of you. It must be very precious.
There is a secret earth gyrm, a place where the unbelievable, the unthinkable, the terrible, takes place every day. A place hidden by the veils of ignorance and cowardice and fear. On occasions we glimpse it, when its hidden terrors fall through that veil into plain sight, but mostly we just dismiss it as something else, somewhere else, to be dealt with by someone else. Long ago I found the veil and lifted it. And knowing as I do what is behind, what those behind it get away with, with impunity ... I cannot grow old basking on the bank of some safe-haven, no.
You’re a clever strategist, but not all battles require tricks. Sometimes the simplest way to kill something is to swim up to it and bite it in half.