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I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.
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How much of my brain is wilfully my own? How much is not a rubber stamp of what I have read and heard and lived? Sure, I make a sort of synthesis of what I come across, but that is all that differentiates me from another person?
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via thievess)
(via quote-book)
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And no matter what anybody says about grief and about time healing all wounds, the truth is, there are certain sorrows that never fade away until the heart stops beating and the last breath is taken.
— Tiffanie DeBartolo (via julie911)
(via quote-book)
the worst thing that ever happened in my life was not saying those three words to you before you left.
