“ I hope to arrive at my death, late, in love, and a little drunk. ”
I worry there is something broken in our generation,there are too many sad eyes on happy faces.
~ Atticus Poetry
We are made of all those who have built and broken us.
Brushing a girl’s hair behind her earonce a daywill solve more problemsthan all thosetherapists and drugs.
She was afraid of heightsbut she was much more afraid of never flying.
