In the act of deciding what to eliminate, you place value on what's left behind.
Passion always goes, and boredom stays.
I'm so sick of immaturity, of name-calling, of labels, of gossip, of high school. It doesn't make sense anymore, and I find myself being nice to people that I want to strangle.
It's not the rooms, it's the life you live in them
You live but once; you might as well be amusing.
I invented my life because I wasn't pleased with it.