I'm sorry she never got her miracle. she did get her miracle, Landon, her miracle was you.
Being loved deeply by someone gives you strength, and loving someone deeply gives you courage.
Because the past was always around her and might return at any time. It prowled the world searching for her, and she knew it was growing angrier at every passing day.
Because everybody lies. It's part of living in society .
You have the Best Of Me....
You don't know how strong something is until you actually test it.
Yet experience has taught me that fate is sometimes cruel and that even a boatload of hope is sometimes not enough.
Where do I go from here?
What's the best thing about being in college? Good teachers. They inspire you, they entertain you, and you end up learning a ton even when you don't know it.
What do you like most about being here?The quiet. When I'm here, no one asks me questions or asks me to do stuff. I can sit here and think.
What I do know is that when I was sitting with you that night, I felt like God was telling me that I was doing the right thing.
We’d met at a carefree time, a moment full of promise, in its place now were the harsh lessons of the real world.
We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seems only the old are able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young, bra...
That's what I don't like about college, by the way. It's like a lot of people don't believe these years really count, so you're allowed to experiment with... whatever. There's such a casual view about...
Sometimes, things don't work out the way we want them to.
She was getting used to his rhythms and his moods, recognizing the quiet signals that telegraphed who he was. Good and bad, strengths and faults, he was hers forever.As she pulled into the driveway, s...
She turned the key, never taking her eyes fromhim,
She had opinions about everything, and she wasn't afraid to share them.
She had been proud of his decision to serve his country, her heart bursting with love and admiration the first time she saw him outfitted in his dress blues.
Poetry wasn't written to be analysed: it was meant to inspire without reason, to touch without understanding.