my hands dead my heart dead silence adagio of rocks the world ablaze that's the best for me.
I search my brain for the truth. “I want it more than anything, just as long as you promise me one thing.” “And what’s that?” “That if at any time it gets to be too much for you, you’ll leave me—walk away and get out.” “That will never happen,” he guarantees me. “You need to give me some credit. You left me, ripped out my heart, and then came back acting like a robot, and you know what? We made it through. You and I, good or bad, belong together. We make each other whole.
He spreads his fingers over my heart, like he’s holding it, like it belongs to him, the hard-fought-for territory he’s won fair and square.
I looked where he was tapping. "Local Girl Missing, Feared Dead" Beneath it was a photo or me-my most recent school photo. "Oh no." My heart filling with dread, i took the paper from Mr. Smith's hands. "Couldn't they have found a better picture?
I fear I must agree," Magnus murmured. He pressed a hand over his heart and his new peacock-blue waistcoast. "I strive to find some respect in my heart for you, but alas! It seems an impossible quest.
You are my hand grenade, my artillery fire. You have replaced my heart with yourself.
Doing fine, thank you, I would say, never knowing how to talk about what I do. If I could talk about it, I would not have to do it. I make art, sometimes I make true art, and sometimes it fills the empty places in my heart. Some of them. Not all.
This knowledge sits in my heart, heavy as a paperweight.
It has been said that life has treated me harshly; and sometimes I have complained in my heart because many pleasures of human experience have been withheld from me...if much has been denied me, much, very much, has been given me.
There are places in my heart...where no living soul...has...or can ever...trespass.
She really was pretty, for a grown-up person, but when you are seven, beauty is an abstraction, not an imperative. I wonder what I would have done if she had smiled at me like that now: whether I would have handed my mind or my heart or my identify to her for the asking, as my father did.
Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.
The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.
When he pulled back, Blay frowned. "You're shaking." Was it possible he wasn't imagining this? "Am I?" "Yes." "I don't care. I love you. I love you so damned much, and I"m sorry that I wasn't male enough to admit—" Blay stopped him with a kiss. "You're plenty male enough now--the rest of it's in the past." "I just...God, I really am shaking, aren't I? Yeah. But it's okay — I've got you." Qhuinn turned his face into one of the male's palms. "You always have. You've always had me...and my heart. My soul. Everything.
Well, at first, I was sure that he would feel the cosmic forces pulling us together. I wanted him so badly, I could feel my heart racing for him with every beat. It was destiny. "He was a magnet and I was steel.
I loved you and you destroyed me. You took my heart and ripped it up. You might as well have staked me.
You are always here with me when I do so, at least in my heart, and it is impossible for me to remember a time when you were not a part of me. I do not know who I would have become had you never come back. I love you, Allie. I am who I am because of you. You are every reason, every hope and every dream I've ever had, and no matter what happens to us in the future, every day we are together is the greatest day of my life. I will always be yours. And, my darling, you will always be mine. Noah
I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.
I tried very hard. But I can't help it. The Fates are cruel. They sent you to me, my brave one, knowing that you would break my heart.
The words went round and round and round in my mind and my body, until I knew they were no longer my words but something that had been carved into my heart. And now my soul was crying.
Sometimes when I wake up, I forget that she's gone and then I remember and my heart drops like it does when you miss a step or trip over a kerb.
In my hands the means... In my heart the will.
Then I saw Juli. She was two tables away from me, facing my direction. Only she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at Jon, her eyes all sparkly and laughing. My heart lurched. What was she laughing about? What were they talking about? How could she sit there and look so... beautiful? I felt myself spinning out of control. It was weird. Like I couldn't even steer my own body. I'd always thought Jon was pretty cool, but right then I wanted to go over and throw him across the room.
Bryce," she whispers. "What's wrong." I can barely breathe as I ask her, "Do you like him?" "Do I... you mean Jon?" "Yes!" "Well, sure. He's nice and -" "No, do you like him?" My heart was pounding through my chest as I took her other hand and waited. "Well, no. I mean, not like that...." No! She said no! I didn't care where I was, I didn't care who saw. I wanted, just had to kiss her. I leaned in, closed my eyes, and then...
I love you. I love you, but I’m turning to my verses and my heart is closing like a fist.
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