He who leaps for the sky may fall, it's true. But he may also fly.
Sometimes I'm afraid to go to sleep because of what I'm leaving behind.
Dystopian novels help people process their fears about what the future might look like; further, they usually show that there is always hope, even in the bleakest future.
That's the thing about best friends. That's what they do. They keep you from spinning off the edge.
Hate isn’t the most dangerous thing, he’d said. Indifference is.
How can someone have the power to shatter you to dust--and also to make you feel so whole?
There are some losses we never get over.
I know the past will drag you backward and down, have you snatching at whispers of wind and the gibberish of trees rubbing together, trying to decipher some code, trying to piece together what was broken. It's hopeless. The past is nothing but a weight. It will build inside you like a stone.
You don't reach points in life at which everything is sorted out for us. I believe in endings that should suggest our stories always continue.
Most people don't want to be saved. Besides, if you keep bailing everybody out, they'll never learn to paddle on their own.
And now I know why they invented words for love, why they had to: It's the only thing that can come close to describing what I feel in that moment, the baffling mixture of pain and pleasure and fear and joy, all running sharply through me at once.
And in that moment, the wordless thing passed between us, the thing that wasn't quite love but was so close I could believe in it sometimes.
Through wind, and tempest, storm, and rain; The calm shall be buried inside of me; A warm stone, heavy and dry; The root, the source, a weapon against pain
Things would get difficult again. But that was okay too. The bravery was in moving forward, no matter what.
Welcome to the free world. We give people the power to choose. They can even choose the wrong thing. Beautiful, isn't it?
There's always some relief in giving up.
There are no happy endings, only breaks in the regular action.
Everyone just wasting time because they have so much of it to waste, minutes slipping by on who's with who and did you hear.
This was what true fear was--that you could never know other people, not completely. That you were always just guessing blind.
But maybe you carried your demons with you everywhere, the way you carried your shadow.
We are all punished for the lives we have chosen, in one way or another.
I'm used to a feeling of doubleness, of thinking one thing and having to do another, a constant tug-of-war.
It's like a razor blade edging its way through my organs, shredding me, all I can think is: It will kill me, it will kill me, it will kill me. And I don't care.
The devil stole into the Garden of Eden. He carried with him the disease - amor deliria nervosa - in the form of a seed. It grew and flowered into a magnificent apple tree, which bore apples as bright as blood. -From Genesis: A Complete History of the World and the Known Universe, by Steven Horace, PhD, Harvard University
Amor deliria nervosa. The deadliest of all deadly things.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: