Boys turns girls into such idiots.

I don’t understand why things always go from perfect to weird with us. It’s like we’re incapable of normal human interaction.

I wish the world would swallow us here, whole, in this moment. And that's when it hits me that this - this - is falling in love.

You ought to stop listening to stereotypes and start forming your own opinions.

I know you aren't perfect. But it's a person's imperfections that make them perfect for someone else.

Because that's the thing about depression. When I feel it deeply, I don't want to let it go. It becomes a comfort. I want to cloak myself under its heavy weight and breathe it into my lunges. I want to nurture it, grow it, cultivate it. It's mine. I want to check out with it, drift asleep wrapped in its arms and not wake up for a long, long time.

I don't believe in fashion. I believe in costume. Life is too short to be same person every day.