Lumavere
She dreams in color,
but he's black and white
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I think of home often,
and of you even more
Tell your stories to me,
show your bruises
Let's see what humanity
is capable of handling
In the rays of the sun,
I am longing for the darkness
Now all I can do is lay in my room, fall asleep, dream of you,
then wake up and do nothing about it
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“And in his heart, I think, he's now learned what I came to believe, which is, as I've said all along, that the sun may burn brightly, and the faces of children may be plump and achingly sweet, but in the air we breathe, in the water we drink and in the food we share, there will always be darkness in this world.”
“If you want to get close to somebody, you have to tell him or her something intimate about yourself. They'll tell you something intimate in return, and if you keep this going, maybe you'll end up in love.”
“Sometimes I think gravity may be death in disguise. Other times I think gravity is love, which is why love's only demand is that we fall.”
“Your entire sense of self-worth is predicated upon your belief that you matter, that you matter to the universe. But you don't. Because we are the ants.”
“Jesse believed stories were the collective memories of the world, recorded in books so that each of us could know who we were before we became who we are. He said that's why people love The Catcher in the Rye when they're teenagers, but fall out of love with it as adults. We're all Holden Caulfield at fifteen, but when we grow up we want to be Atticus Finch.”
“
“I was not a lovable child, and I'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. Draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs.”
“I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ. Slit me at my belly and it might slide out, meaty and dark, drop on the floor so you could stomp on it.”
“The truly frightening flaw in humanity is our capacity for cruelty - we all have it.”
"In this universe there might grow roses which sing."
“You don't have to look back to see those children; part of your mind will see them forever. They are not necessarily the best part of you, but they were once the repository of all you could become.”
"She laughed at the stars, frightened but free, her terror as sharp as pain and as sweet as a ripe October apple."
"I liked hurting girls. Mentally, not physically... And it was legal. I think I killed a few of them. Their souls, I mean."
"So in order to feel something through the numbness, I decided to perpetrate on my soul and hers the equivalent of quenching cigarettes on my paralyzed limbs. My hope was that if I registered pain, it would be welcomed as a sign of life.”
“I heard someone say somewhere that it's possible to write the sickness out of yourself. And who knows, maybe someone will benefit.”
"Sometimes forgetting is the gift that we give ourselves.”
“Our minds work hard to avoid dissonance – if we hold a belief strongly enough, our minds will forcefully reject conflicting evidence so that we can maintain the integrity of our understanding of the world.”
“The events of our lives unfold linearly, but in the mental reel of those past experiences, most of the frames that haven't been completely stolen by time are left distorted and blurred by it."
"How bitterly glad I am to see you. You bring joy and pain in equal measure. Joy because you are with me, but pain because it won't be for long."
"I've never forgotten him. Dare I say I miss him? I do. I miss him. I still see him in my dreams. They are nightmares mostly, but nightmares tinged with love. Such is the strangeness of the human heart. I still cannot understand how he could abandon me so unceremoniously, without any sort of goodbye, without looking back even once.”
"She is forty-nine, and she wonders if this is what feeling old really means - not just physical deterioration, but an interpersonal. A growing silence caused by the people you most love, who have shaped you and defined your world, going on ahead into whatever comes after."
"Nostalgia is as much an analgesic for him as alcohol.”
“He has wondered lately if that's all living really is—one long goodbye to those we love.”
“Anytime he heard laughter inside, it seemed as though the rooms sucked up the sound and squelched it beneath a veil of discolored wallpaper. If that house were alive, it would feed on happiness and breathe out nothing but screaming and hate.”
“He’d do it because when he looked into her eyes, he saw magic. Maybe facing his fear and allowing their limbs to tangle together would cause some of that magic to rub off on him. Maybe drawing his hands across her bare skin would make him a better person. Perhaps it would erase all his wrongs, would let him start over, be someone new.”