"Vincent Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness inside him. Many people thought he was mad and stupid for doing so because the paint was toxic, never mind that it was obvious that eating paint couldn’t possibly have any direct correlation to one’s happiness, but I never saw that. If you were so unhappy that even the maddest ideas could possibly work, like painting the walls of your internal organs yellow, then you are going to do it. It’s really no different than falling in love or taking drugs. There is a greater risk of getting your heart broken or overdosing, but people still do it everyday because there was always that chance it could make things better. Everyone has their yellow paint."
"She wears all black
just like her soul
yet her heart is made of gold."
"You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp."
how long have we known each other now? how long have we known the other’s name and not breathed it into the night hoping to be closer? i feel as if the universe has used my life to draw me to you, to create in me a shadow, that only you could see. you see, i see things differently with you - as if you’ve given me this new vision, this new pair of eyes and everything is brighter, everything is more connected. you’ve shown me God as the artist, as the small person trying to hold the world together with such small hands, and weeping when we all fall apart. I cannot thank you enough for painting in my dark lines, for giving me yellow when all I wanted was to hole myself away in a pit of blackness and never be seen again.
to you, whose hands have brushed my heart when you are hundreds of miles away. to you, who has seen me and shown me the art and beauty within myself. If I lived one thousand more lifetimes, I would pick you every time.
"Love is like a narcotic. At first it brings the euphoria of complete surrender. The next day, you want more. You’re not addicted yet, but you like the sensation, and you think you can still control things. You think about the person you love for two minutes, and forget them for three hours. But then you get used to that person, and you begin to be completely dependent on them. Now you think about him for three hours and forget him for two minutes. If he’s not there, you feel like an addict who can’t get a fix. And just as addicts steal and humiliate themselves to get what they need, you’re willing to do anything for love."
"The world is filled with nice people. If you can’t find one, be one."