On calm days, you always think you've conquered them. You think that in the end you've finally done them in. That you've got rid of them for good, now and forever. But that seldom happens. Most of the time, the demons are still there, lurking somewhere in the shadows. Tirelessly waiting for the moment when our guard drops. And when love goes away.

You are your own refuge There is no other You cannot save another You can only save yourself.

Now he could say for sure that he'd never known a feeling stronger than that of being at one with another person - that rare feeling of not being alone anymore.

We are young, but We already know that in life's great game those who are most unhappy are those who haven't taken the risk to be happy. And I don't want to be one of those

In years past, to keep their men close, women would wear a ring and bear children. It doesn't work like that today. Nowadays, how do we hold on to those we love? I've no idea.

Love is always dangerous. To love is to hope you'll win it all while running the risk that you could lose it all. And sometimes it's also about accepting that there's a risk that you'll love more than you are loved.

Why was love such an addictive drug? Why did loving someone cause such suffering?