No passion in the world is equal to the passion to alter someone else's draft.
I have never let my schooling interfere with my education.
Take caution when declaring war because you may believe it will be easy, but war will always end in despair.
A room without books is like a body without a soul.
My Best Friend is a person who will give me a book I have not read.
She was an echo masquerading as a shadow and she followed me just the same. The night and its moon were her favor while the sunrise and sunlight the daggers that sliced her to ribbons. She looked thro...
...4-5-6: when time escapes the day in its most beautiful way. She starves for that beauty, she longs to quench her limitless thirst, but those moments are so fleeting and their limit is her unrest. H...
What do you do when your words aren't enough? What do you do when your actions have no effect? What do you do when all the fibers of your existence scream just to be heard? And yet, only the most deaf...
She was a mimicry of a facade fashioned from the half-truths of her life. She was a beautiful abomination, patched together from the most pristine and terrible parts she could find. She was a black cr...
Though I exist in the realms of day and night, I'm only truly alive in the moments between.
And once the ripples still and the water returns to its unwavering calm, even the pebble that broke its surface will be forgotten. And the world will go on.
I was lost in the moments I decided to keep. To be awake in a dreamless sleep. And in that place between dream and sleep, I planted some more things I would like to keep.
She was starmetal bones with kaleidoscope eyes. A cracked framework of unique beauty, a patchwork portrait filled with swirling brush strokes, an amalgamation of delicate light and detailed shatter. I...
She's an array of undiscovered words, of feeling beyond my threshold. I'm just a man, trying to hold himself together in her wake.
The flicker, the flutter, even thoughts can stutter.
I gave her the world, the moon, the sun, the stars, the planets... I gave her my breath, my voice, my sight, my life... I gave her memories, dreams, happiness... I gave her care and compassion... I ga...
It was her eyes. Soft, meadow-shade eyes with frostbitten edges. Every glance casually held gossamer infinity. Every stare revealed inky black abyss with a hint of divinity.
Stop the bleeding! Gauze the wound!" And his voice became much softer, "Those are the words... I've yet to write." He died with that exhale. He died in a steaming carmine pool of unwritten stories tha...
Woven words are little conviction when I present myself as a man of fiction.
She was carmine shadows reflecting from my crimson words. Every pulse sent a velvet ripple through the shade. Every breath, a scarlet pause.
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