S.L. Walker Quotes
On that search for happiness we did nothing with all those other emotions that made us human.
It requires far more strength to experience emotion than to suppress it.
Sitting on my bed with all these things I used to love but not loving them anymore, I just wanted to set them on fire. That's when I knew I was never going to be all right again.
Maybe that's what I needed. Another tattoo. Some pain on the outside to ease the pain on the inside.
It is vital to avoid mediocrity - living a life of deadness in someone else's threadbare world.
And without my consent, with my defences in ruins, while my brain was sleeping, my stupid heart went and fell headfirst into love.
My last thought before falling asleep last night was a realisation that I was falling in love with Andrew. Well, not me exactly. My stupid, traitorous heart.
I think he won a tiny piece of my heart that day. If he didn't have the whole damn thing before then, he certainly had part of it now.
I kissed him softly and left my lips pressed to his for a few beats of my heart.
When I opened the door, Andrew was standing there like a remedy for heart palpitations. Or maybe he made them worse. It was hard to tell.
Sometimes, when we least expect it, we catch a glimpse of someone, a face, perhaps only a smile, and our heart latches on and will not let go. It may not be love at first, but soon and for always.
My tattoos, like most people's, were reminders, badges of personal experiences. Yes, I might wear them on my skin for the world to see, but their meaning was a little too personal.
Communities that can't read and translate what the powers are putting out will always be tricked.
A child is like a ship. One can never be too young to be steered to the right course.
We were like wanderers in a desert, blessed with a rare downpour, but unable to store the rain.
Seemingly suicidal, it's not. I never wanted to live. I wanted to be happy. Living was always accidental.
Stare. It is the way to educate your eye, and more. Stare, pry, listen, eavesdrop. Die knowing something. You are not here long.
Words have never belonged to those who wrote them. Always to those who needed then.
I wish I didn’t need words to speak to her. They sometimes hold very different meanings for us both.
adulthood is depressing. for me at least. i cried at the death of every illusion harder than i cried at the death of friends.
You asked me to be an open book. As I've already told you, I am. Anything you need to know about me can be found. Don't confuse me, a paperback, with a book on tape.
People who are ordinarily understood to dislike each other or at least to be indifferent toward each other discover that they have much in common.
There’s a small window of opportunity to apologize sometimes after you’ve terribly wronged someone. It closes. Sometimes forever, but it never opens wide enough again for a good breeze.
You can't beat yourself up anymore, ' he says. 'And you can't compare your thing to my thing or to anyone else's thing on the how-bad-should-I-feel? scale.
Silent tears are the worst. It's the sign of a broken spirit. No sound, no residual emotions... just tears. Silent, unstoppable tears.
She left, never to return. I planted a tree and a seed each time I thought of her. I grew a small forest and a large garden and had no one to give the orchids to.
If you allow your passion and vitality to remain hidden or unexpressed, you won't live into the fullest expression of who you can be.
Fairy tales were the door to the world of imagination for me as a child, that land I often lived in when real life wasn’t quite enough.
The world is full of 'friends' of suicide victims thinking 'if I had only made that drive over there, I could have done something.
It's crazy. My life has been full of fun and adventure. but i love meeting people who make me feel like I've done nothing.
The right people make you realize fame and fortune is cool, but small moments of pure freedom is better.
With tact, exit from the world I’ve created, and we never have to speak of those good times again.
He was that driven, that smart. But he could not sit still within himself.
This was the first time I noticed it, the inevitable space between father and man.
He’d given up his mortality, his soul, for this moment, this second chance, and if she fell in love with him again, he needed to know it was real.