Even The Most Beautiful Things Can Be

If You Tell Yourself You Feel Fine, You Will.

You Don't Love Someone Because They're Perfect, You Love Them In Spite Of The Fact That They're Not.

Maybe Fate Isn't The Pond You Swim In But The Fisherman Floating On Top Of It, Letting You Run The Line Wild Until You Are Weary Enough To Be Reeled Back In.

Yes, She Is." He Looks At Me, His Face Carved In Pain. "she Is Dying, Sara. She Will Die, Either Tonight Or Tomorrow Or Maybe A Year From Now If We're Really Lucky. You Heard What Dr. Chance Said. Arsenic's Not A Cure. It Just Postpones What's Coming." My Eyes Fill Up With Tears. "but I Love Her," I Say, Because That Is Reason Enough.

Talking Out Loud To Fictional Characters Is Just The Tip Of The Iceberg.