If you’re handing out flashlights in the dark, start handing out stars.

I'm good at loving books. I'm good at loving soft bed sheets. I'm good at loving coffees and teas. I am good at loving things that can't love me back, that don't have the power to leave. And maybe, that's why I love them.

I don't believe we're hateful. I think mostly we're just asleep, but the math adds up the same.

Everything but "I LOVE YOU" is small talk.

Remember, you didn’t come here to write your heart out. You came to write it in.

I’m never gonna wait that extra twenty minutes to text you back, and I’m never gonna play hard to get when I know your life has been hard enough already. When we all know everyone’s life has been hard enough already it’s hard to watch the game we make of love, like everyone’s playing checkers with their scars, saying checkmate whenever they get out without a broken heart. Just to be clear I don’t want to get out without a broken heart. I intend to leave this life so shattered there’s gonna have to be a thousand separate heavens for all of my flying parts.

How many wars will it take us to learn that only the dead return?