I think it only makes me sick because I know you loved her, too.

I'm tired of pretending to be who I'm not. I'm tired of hiding things in my past that I DON'T regret. I'm tired of smiling. This isn't my life. This isn't me. I vanished long ago, and I doubt I will ever return.

Quite often, the ability to create art through the mind is a curse rather than a gift; there is nothing so terrifying and beautiful as an overly-colorful imagination.

When the hourglass shatters and time stands still, all you have is your heart's desire to fulfill.

Living a life without friends; no one there to pick you up when you fall or to confide in... Is like walking down an endless road that leads to nowhere and the only thing that seems to come closer and closer is the end of your sanity.