"One night they fell asleep, side by side. He slept curled upon her back; a dark comma against her pale, elegant phrase."
"You get a little moody sometimes but I think that’s because you like to read. People that like to read are always a little fucked up."
"She moved on, and i feel sorry for you, because she thought you were the most amazing boy ever. If she could have had any guy in the world, she still would have picked you. Now, you’re just another part of her past, a memory faded every day. And someday, she’ll find the one she deserves, and he will make her the happiest girl in the world."
"He’ll grab your waist and whisper in your ear but six months later you’ll find yourself drunk texting him that you miss him and he won’t respond."
"As much as it sucks, you need to force yourself to remember your very worst times together, his most irritating habits, and the hard truth that not only can he live without you…but he’d rather."
"The thing about on/off relationships is… They’re great until they’re not, they’re the things of dreams, until, suddenly, you’re living a nightmare. They’re the perfect song, on a broken record. They’re a great book, possibly the greatest, but with key chapters missing. They’re breakfast in bed on a powder blue morning, and then days in bed, without eating. They’re breakups that you don’t know how to mourn, because you can’t fathom that this one, this is the last.
They’re drunk break-up sex and drunk make-up texts at 3am. They’re feeling cheated and feeling guilty. They’re feeling loved, they’re feeling special.
They’re intoxicating. Because you keep making the same mistakes, over and over again, because you keep falling into the same pattern. They’re familiar and safe, and like a home you come back to - no matter where, or how broken - it’s a home no less; they know you and you know them.
But see, the thing is, after a while, you no longer hear the music on the broken record - you just hear silence; and you no longer care about the characters, you just want the book to end. Every off, every break chips away.
At some point you realize that love should be more than drunk-3am-s that make you afraid that life will never be that perfect again. At some point you no longer want love to be a roller coaster.
Or so I’ve heard. I hope it’s true. But right now, if you called and asked me to - I’d go back, I’d do it all over again."
"One of my philosophy professors lectured wildly about love once, yelling: “When you’re in love with someone, that person is the lighthouse of your universe.” (I scrawled it inside Science and Poetry in pencil—lighthouse of your universe—as if I would ever forget that phrase.) He was a delightful caricature of his position. I could swear he literally tore his hair out while howling at us. He went on, “Nothing means as much without that person.” One of the men in the class repeated, incredulous, half-laughing, “So you’re saying you can’t enjoy, like, a vacation, without someone if you’re really in love with them?” “Of course not.” the professor replied. “Not completely. You recognize beauty, but beauty means less if they don’t witness it with you. Beauty is less. You see something sublime and your first thought is that they should be there with you. It’s not as good without them. They illuminate. They make everything more."
"We’re all shipwrecked on this idea that everything has to be explained."