Everybody said, “Follow your heart”. I did, it got broken.

People love each other for many reasons, not all of them good […]. They love each other because it’s easy. Or because they’re used to it. Or because they’ve given up. Or because they’re scared.

“I wonder if I could take back every ‘I love you’ ever said to you, would I do it?

You make me feel like a firefly. Trapped in a belljar; starved for love.

Falling in love is like holding a candle. Initially it lightens up the world around you. Then it starts melting and hurt you. Finally it goes off and everything is darker than ever and all you are left with is the.. BURN!

I cannot eat, I cannot drink; the pleasures of youth and love are fled away: there was a good time once, but now that is gone, and life is no longer life.

I guess that’s what saying good-bye is always like — like jumping off an edge. The worst part is making the choice to do it. Once you’re in the air, there’s nothing you can do but let go.

Sometimes a little heartbreak is a lesson, and the best thing to do is just learn the lesson.

You left with my soul in your fists and my heart in your teeth, and I don’t want either of them back.

Long after I have given up, my heart still searches for you without my permission

Then his heart, now broken into a thousand pieces, slowly began to turn to ice.

Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused.

The girl behind the scrawled letters. I loved you from the moment I read them. I love you still.

It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.

Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.

So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.

Most things break, including hearts. The lessons of life amount not to wisdom, but to scar tissue and callus.

True hearts have eyes and ears, no tongues to speak; They hear and see, and sigh, and then they break.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. To think I don’t have her. To feel that I’ve lost her. To hear the immense night, more immense without her. And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.