Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground.

We all have bullets beneath our skin we pray our lovers won't flinch at when they find.

You have a heart of gold and I am kneeling in your bloodstream panning for the only thing that has ever felt like home.

When your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and pray for rain.

Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.

You are not weak just because your heart feels so empty.

...And for every day you paint the war, take a week and paint the beauty, the color, the shape of the landscape you’re marching towards. Everyone knows what you’re against; show them what you’re for.