Darling, the world doesn't owe you anything.

The thing about hearts is that they always want to keep beating

The truth is, I feel beyond sad. I feel empty. Numb.

The story of my life can be told in silver: in chocolate mills, serving spoons, and services for twelve. The story of my life has nothing to do with me. The story of my life is things. Things that aren’t mine, that won’t ever be mine. It’s all I’ve ever known. I wish it wasn’t.

I deserved the shaking and the headaches and the fact that every single time I took a breath I felt a squeezing in my chest, my heart beating even though I wished it wasn't.

You're right . . . you can't go back. No matter how much you want to, you never can

Why do people think being with someone is the answer to everything?