The bottom line is that we never fall for the people we're supposed to.

It seems to me that no matter what religion you subscribe to, acts of kindness are the stepping-stones to making the world a better place--because we become better people in it.

Life isn't nearly as stable as we want it to be.

Then they scrambled through the window and into the darkness, determined to turn themselves into what they were not.

When you care more if someone else lives than you do about yourself- is that what [love is]?

let me tell you what happens when you cook down the syrup of loss over the open fire of sorrow: it solidfies into something wlaw. not grief, like you'd expect, or even regret. no, it gets thick as paste, black as ash; yet it isn't until you dip a finger in and feel that sharp taste dissolving on your tounge that you realize this is angel in its purest form, unrefined; a substance to be weighed and measyred and spread.

In the end, though, I did not kill my sister. She did it all on her own. Or at least this is what I tell myself.