“Someone real,” I hear myself saying. “Someone who never has to pretend, and who I never have to pretend around. Someone who’s smart, but knows how to laugh at himself. Someone who would listen to a symphony and start to cry, because he understands music can be too big for words. Someone who knows me better than I know myself. Someone I want to talk to first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Someone I feel like I’ve known my whole life, even if I haven’t.”

“Learn to deal with the fact that you are not a perfect person but you are a person that deserves respect and honesty.”

“I believe in love the verb, not the noun.”

“You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.”

“If you have the woman you love, what more do you need? Well, besides an alibi for the time of her husband’s murder.
”

“Thought I couldn’t live without youIt’s gonna hurt when it heals tooEven though I really love youI’m gonna smile cause I deserve toQuickly I’m learning to love againAll I know is I’mma be ok”

“Physical love is unthinkable without violence.”

“My girlfriend is sad and quiet and keeps me up all night worrying about her.”

“I was suffering the easily foreseeable consequences. Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit you wanted-an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with a hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is witheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy, and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore– despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have ‘that thing’ even one more time. Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you’re someone he’s never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is,you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You’re a pathetic mess,unrecognizable even to your own eyes. So that’s it. You have now reached infatuation’s final destination– the complete and merciless devaluation of self.” – pg 20-21”

“How could I be sleeping with this particular man…. Surely only true love could justify my lack of taste.”

“If equal affection cannot be,Let the more loving one be me.”

“Love.Not the kind you see in the movies or hear about on the radio.The real kind.The kind that gets beaten down and bloody, yet perseveres.The kind that hopes even when hope seems foolish.The kind that can forgives. The kind that believes in healing. The kind that can sit in silence and feel renewed.The real kind of love.It’s rare and we have it..”

“Submission is not about authority and it is not obedience; it is all about relationships of love and respect.”

“When you loved someone and had to let them go, there will always be that small part of yourself that whispers, “What was it that you wanted and why didn’t you fight for it?”

“Most men claim to desire driven, independent and confident women. Yet when confronted with such a creature reverence often evolves into resent. For just like women, men need to be needed.”