This pain, this dying, this is just normal. This is how life is. In fact, I realize, there never was an earthquake. Life is just this way, broken, and I am crazy for dreaming of something else.

And in this dark, empty corridor, where he stood balanced between two worlds - here between the past and the unknown future - he could pretend that this kiss was the only thing that mattered. Here, he allowed himself to imagine he was no longer Draco Malfoy, with every bit of history that name dragged with it, but just a lonely soldier headed off to war. And here, he could almost believe that Potter was different, too.

They both pulled away as reality slowly reasserted itself. His heart pounding, his breath unsteady, he reluctantly dropped his hands and took a single step back. He'd acted with recklessness, with no reason he could name, and his head was whirling. He certainly hadn't expected to relish or to take pleasure in their kiss quite like that - but he had.

"What - what was that for?" Potter managed to stammer.

He smiled without any effort. "For trying. And maybe for luck."

Ennis, not big on endearments, said what he said to his horses and daughters, little darlin.

If nothing else, one day you can look someone straight in the eyes and say

"But I lived through it. And it made me who I am today."

You can walk into a room and spot them. They seem fine when you talk to them but every now and again, across the room, you catch them looking off into the distance at an invisible point that maybe, they once reached. They laugh a little different. They hesitate a little more. Now they know what it feels like. And something about their eyes when they listen to music says

"Turn it up until my ears bleed. Let it be the last thing I hear."

"Look, Howard, you've got to stop falling for people when they give you the slightest bit of affection."

"One day you fall for this boy. And he touches you with his fingers. And he burns holes in your skin with his mouth. And it hurts when you look at him. And it hurts when you don't. And it feels like someone's cut you open with a jagged piece of glass."

i want your lungs to stop working without me

I think of you
landlocked and lost
in another element--
your body.
The sea teaches me
love is a wish
not for safety
but for destruction.
I am not ashamed
to admit it:
I love you
the way water loves.
Which is to say
I wish the world
were through with you,
so you could return to me
ravaged, upon this shore:
a shell
held tight
inside my palm.

"When a caterpillar sees a butterfly, does it know?"

I am crying about the elusive nature of love, the impossibility of ever having someone so completely that he can fill up the hole, the gaping hole that for me right now is full of depression. I understand why people sometimes want to kill their lovers, eat their lovers, inhale the ashes of their dead lovers.

Things happen, one after another, world without end. Just because you're self-aware doesn't mean you can change what's happening.

Eventually someone is going to break your heart. Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking "I am falling to the floor crying" but there's an element of the ridiculous to it—you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn't paint it very well and when you're having sex with your next lover on this very floor they will also notice that you didn't paint it very well and they will think less of you for it. And then you think "Is that sentence too long?" And then you have to hold the contradictions of sobbing uncontrollably and wondering about grammar in your head at the same time. I think if you are true to the entire experience, not just the sad part, you don't risk sentimentality because you’re not overloading the experience with fake, melodramatic feeling.

I also hear that whispering helps.

There are some things about myself I can't explain to anyone. There are some things I don't understand at all. I can't tell what I think about things or what I'm after. I don't know what my strengths are or what I'm supposed to do about them. But if I start thinking about these things in too much detail the whole thing gets scary. And if I get scared I can only think about myself. I become really self-centered, and without meaning to, I hurt people. So I'm not such a wonderful human being.

I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited.

The truth of it is, when you hate yourself, there is no better form of punishment than sleeping with people that remind you of yourself. I saw everything that was revolting in myself in these women and was drawn to it like a pig is drawn to its own shit.

When I looked at you, my life made sense. Even the bad things made sense. They were necessary to make you possible.

"They think that you're taking advantage of me, they think that I'm using you, but they don't know us. They think that we're ugly, but I know that we're beautiful. And we can adapt to a hostile environment."

"You know, its interesting you should say that, because I've always wanted a peg leg. It's a boyhood thing I never grew out of. I'm not being flippant, I've given this a lot of thought. I mean, if you have a peg leg or hooks for hands then maybe it's enough to simply keep on living. You know, braving, facing life with your disability. But without these things you're actually meant to make something of your life, achieve something, earn a raise, wear a necktie. So if anything I'm actually the antithesis of Ahab, because if I did have a peg leg I'd quite possibly be more happy and more content not to be chasing after these creatures of the unknown."

"People feel that just simply because they're having this cemented communion with another person that the two of you will become whole, which is something I detested. I hate that, that implication. It's not true, anyway. Ultimately, you're on your own, whatever happens in life, however you go through life. You die on your own. You have to go to the dentist on your own! It's like all the serious things in life are things that you feel on your own."

there's a house across the river, but alas, i cannot swim
and a garden of such beauty that the flowers seem to grin
there's a house across the river, but alas, i cannot swim
i'll live my life regretting that i never jumped in