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My favorite books, love songs, movies, the ones that resonated with me, have kept me grieving long after I turned the last page, the notes faded out, or the credits rolled.
The only love I’ve ever known or craved is the kind that keeps me sick, sick with longing, sick with lust, sick with need, sick with grief. The distorted kind that leaves scars and jaded hearts.
It was her job to raise you, Cee. That’s the obligation of a parent, which you should never feel obligated to repay.”
“It’s the only measure of time that matters. Time itself is just an invisible line, a measure people made up, right? You know that. And while it’s good for reference, it’s also a major stress trigger, because you’re letting it control you.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t give it power. Now is now, later will eventually be now. Don’t be a slave to the insanity of keeping time and keeping up. Now is the only thing you have control over, and even so, it’s an illusion.”
“But do yourself a favor—never research your heroes.” “Why?” He tips his beer. “Because you’ll find out they’re human.”
I have a misplaced theory that if you’re not suffering, you’re not loving hard enough, deep enough—and that’s just not healthy.
I expect passion and butterflies, and one or two fairy tale moments. When we fight, I want it to hurt. When we fuck, I want to feel it with every fiber of my being. When a man confesses his love to me, I expect him to mean it. I don’t want to question the words’ authenticity. I want to be claimed and owned and ruled and possessed by love.
My greatest hope is to be in all-consuming love. My biggest fear is to be in all-consuming love.
people only hear what they want to.”
“You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than you can in a year of conversation.”
“My rainy days are yours, Dominic. If you want them.” “It rains a lot here,” he says after a few long beats. “Fine with me. But my sunny days belong to Sean.”
“As you should,” Mom chimes in, “but just know, the picture in your head might not match your reality. There are very few men worth the hell they put you through. So be very careful about who you give your heart and body to. They might eventually take more than you can handle.”
The birds band together in adolescence to form a bond as rebellious teenagers—which I’m sure is when The Ravenhood was formed—until they finally mate out. And the theory on Ravens is that they mate for life.
