“Until then, never lose hope. Never stop loving me. Never forget. Never Never,”
“I know that’s weird, but that’s what you love about me. You love how much I love you. Because yes. I love you way too much. More than anyone deserves to be loved. But I can’t help it. You make normal love hard. You make me psycho-love you.”
“If it were possible to hear a smile, hers would be a love song.”
“I wanted to meet the boy who documented suffering in such vivid color.”
“Never forget that I was your first real kiss. Never forget that you'll be my last. And never stop loving me between all of them.”
“You make normal love hard. You make me psycho-love you.”
“I'd rather love you at the bottom than despise you at the top.”
“I even read that book you liked so much. The one with the apple on the cover. Wow! That Edward is…how did you put it…dreamy? ”
“You get really angry when you’re hungry. You get hangry. It’s like you’re not even the same person. Can we keep granola bars in your purse or something? It’s just that I worry about my balls.”
“Never never,” he whispers. His warmth, his lips, his hands.
He presses his mouth to mine and kisses me deeply and I…”
“I may not remember her, but I sure as hell still feel her.”
“I would give anything to have that memory back--to see what it was like between us when we loved each other enough to believe it was forever.”
“Never forget those who paved the way before you. Never stop trying to better the world for those who will inhabit it after you.”
“You said pain is necessary, because in order for a person to succeed, they must first learn to conquer adversity.”
“Never forget how right it felt when my lips finally touched yours.
...
Never forget the way you pulled closer - wanting it to feel like my heart was beating inside your chest.”
“Dozens of books. I wonder if she’s read them all, or if she just needs them for comfort. Maybe she uses them as an escape from her real life.”
“You need to remember what it is that someone so desperately wanted you to forget. - Janice Delacroix”
“So many times you’ve taken my breath away or made it feel like my heart was trapped inside my stomach. But last night was more than any fourteen-year-old boy could handle. So I took your face in my hands and I kissed you, just like I’ve been dreaming of doing for over a year now.”
“I would give anything to have that memory back -- to see what it was like between us when we loved each other enough to believe it was forever. - Silas Nash”
“You looked really sexy with all that chicken grease on your face. Ripping the meat away with your teeth like a savage. God. I just want to marry you.”
“I told you before I'll never stop loving you. I'll never forget what we have.”
“After you fell asleep, I moved the video camera closer to us. I wrapped my arms around you and listened to you breathe until I fell asleep.
Sometimes when I have trouble sleeping, I’ll play that video.”.”
“I’d rather love you at the bottom than despise you at the top.”
“Oh, and when you kiss me and pull away to tell me I’m pretty? Don’t like that one damn bit. Why can’t you just be like other guys who ignore their girlfriends? It’s so unfair that I have to deal with this.”
“Never forget that I was your first real kiss. Never forget that you’ll be my last.”
“Never forget how right it felt when my lips finally touched yours.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Charlie. You’re allowed to love me, despite what your father says. You’re allowed to be happy. What you can’t allow is for negativity to choke you until we no longer breathe the same air.”
“Silas baked me a cake for my birthday. It was awful. I think he forgot the eggs. But it was the most beautiful chocolate failure I’ve ever seen. I was so happy that I didn’t even make a gag face when I ate a slice. But, oh god, it was so bad. Best boyfriend ever.”
“You act one way in front of everyone else, but at night when I’m on the phone with you, I get the real Charlie. It’s going to be absolute torture not dialing your number and hearing your voice before I go to sleep each night, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t only love that part of you—the real part of you. I want to love you when I talk to you at night and I also want to love you when I see you during the day, but you’re beginning to show two different sides of yourself.”
“I wonder what people do when they have no place to go and no place to be.”
“The sun came out. It filtered down through the leaves, creating a playful pattern of light and shade that danced before my eyes. The air smelled of lilies of the valley. As I walked beneath the canopy of trees, wrapped in the delicate fragrance, caution fell away. It didn't matter that I had no idea which street led to the place de Tertre or to my Métro stop. Destination no longer ruled. My only map was that of free association: I would follow each street only as long as it interested me and then, on a whim, choose a new direction.”
“Here is a little boy,” said Bingo, indicating me to the strange lady, “who wets his bed every night. Do you know what I am going to do if you wet your bed again?” she added, turning to me. “I am going to get the Sixth Form to beat you.” The strange lady put on an air of being inexpressibly shocked, and exclaimed “I-should-think-so!” And here occurred one of those wild, almost lunatic misunderstandings which are part of the daily experience of childhood. The Sixth Form was a group of older boys who were selected as having “character” and were empowered to beat smaller boys. I had not yet learned of their existence, and I mis-heard the phrase “the Sixth Form” as “Mrs. Form.” I took it as referring to the strange lady—I thought, that is, that her name was Mrs. Form. It was an improbable name, but a child has 110 judgement in such matters. I imagined, therefore, that it was she who was to be deputed to beat me. It did Dot strike me as strange that this job should be turned over to a casual visitor in no way connected with the school. I merely assumed that “Mrs. Form” was a stern disciplinarian who enjoyed beating people (somehow her appearance seemed to bear this out) and I had an immediate terrifying vision of her arriving for the occasion in full riding kit and armed with a hunting whip. To this day I can feel myself almost swooning with shame as I stood, a very small, round-faced boy in short corduroy knickers, before the two women. I could not speak. I felt that I should die if “Mrs. Form” were to beat me. But my dominant feeling was not fear or even resentment: it was simply shame because one more person, and that a woman, had been told of my disgusting offence.”
“We are all creatures of the stars and their forces, they make us, we make them, we are part of a dance from which we by no means and not ever may consider ourselves separate. But when the Gods explode, or err, or dissolve into flying clouds of gas, or shrink, or expand, or whatever else their fates might demand, then the minuscule items of their substance may in their small ways express—not protest, which of course is inappropriate to their station in life—but an acknowledgement of the existence of irony: yes, they may sometimes allow themselves—always with respect—the mildest possible grimace of irony.”
“it and he says he wasn’t. I also knew where I was going. I knew it leveled off up there. He didn’t.”
“I don’t want to be in pain anymore. I want to be done, to be left unburdened and naked, to tear the hurt off my body like layers of clothes. At the end of the trail I stop and bend forward, hands on my knees, to catch my breath. I’m not healed, but for this moment, I’m better.”
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