What I've learned about writing is that sometimes less is more, while often more is grander. And both are true.
You cannot know what I do not tell you, yet you will be judged harshly for not knowing.
Cursed be the immortal that believed time was more precious than love.
Rare and precious moments, how I long to live with you eternally! If only your sweetness never ceased to touch my lips, and the flutters you evoke nevermore faded away. I dream of your arm extended immeasurably to keep hold of my reaching hand. But Father Time, being a cruel master, will not grant such a wish. And so I tuck you away as cherished memories, stored in a treasure box buried in my heart. And in times of solitude, I shall bring you out to view like rainbows.
You have no idea how many thousands of times I have whispered to myself 'don’t give up'.
I went to bed without reading, instead staring out my window with the curtains drawn, wondering about boys. Why did they behave so oddly? One minute their teasing was relentless, and then bam!― they’d stun you with a thoughtful gesture. Either way, their actions made you want to cry. Maybe that was the intent.