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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“The nicest thing about the rain is that it always stops. Eventually.” —Eeyore
“If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart. I’ll stay there forever.”
“Yeah. It’s bright like the sun,” he says, glancing skyward. “And the sun is bright like you.”
Love conquers your common sense, your good reasoning, your sound logic. Love conquers your heart until it’s a mangled, stomped-on, barely beating organ. Love conquers your carefully assembled dreams and puts them in the hands of someone else. Love conquers. Consumes. Kills. In my opinion, love is life’s most skilled assassin. And that’s because it hides in plain sight, well versed in camouflage and deception. It wears the face of that one person you would die for on the front line as you bleed out in the dirt, whispering their name on your final breath.
I’d be ready for anything with his hand in mine.
Romanticize your life. Don’t live every day like it’s your last. Live every day like it’s your first. Lasts are tragic. Firsts are exciting and full of celebration. Look at every sunrise like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen colors like that before. Listen to your favorite song like you’ve never heard such a precious melody. If you make every day a celebration, you’ll never get bored in your own story.”
“But there’s a place for you, Ella,” he says. “I have all the room for you if this is where you want to be.”
“Kissing you feels like catching the sun,”
“There is no hurry. We shall get there someday.”
Love comes first. You’re grieving because love happened. You’re bleeding because love sank its nasty, beautiful claws in you. You’re crying because love filled you up and now it has nowhere to go.”
Healing only comes with a forward trajectory.
You can’t catch the sun, but there’s no shame in chasing its light.
“You’re right because there is no love and war. Love is war. You fight until you win, or you fight until you lose. Imagine the victory after all that pain and struggle, after all those battle wounds.” I swallow, pressing our foreheads together, noses touching. “War was never meant for peacemakers. There is no place for white flags and soft hearts. It’s loud, feral, and violent. Love is a killer, but not everyone dies bloody. Some stand tall in the end.” I squeeze her cheeks between my hands and beg, “Let that be you, Ella. Let that be us.”
the key to healing is when you know what to hold on to… And what to let go of.
some people have a way of making you feel as if living is more than just being alive.
