When people fall in love, they burst into flames.

If bad luck knows who you are, become someone else.

I didn't know love felt like this, like turning into brightness.

I wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes when the grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe.

But what if music is what escapes when a heart breaks?

I don't know how the heart withstands it.

I've no use for talking, would just as soon store paper clips in my mouth.