And now that this body is gone and has been returned to the Earth, I assure everyone that psychic energy doesn’t die, it is recycled throughout the universe and will out live anything that we do as living beings. Flesh will decay, ideas won’t as long as you believe in them and someone believes in you. A.P. Sweet
We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and–in spite of True Romance magazines–we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely–at least, not all the...
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Hunter S. Thompson
Stop fighting me! " he said, trying to pull on the arm he held. He was in a precarious position himself, straddling the rail as he tried to lean over far enough to get me and actually hold onto me.“ Let go of me! ”...
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Richelle Mead
Weeping is not the same thing as crying. It takes your whole body to weep, and when it's over, you feel like you don't have any bones left to hold you up.
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Sarah Ockler
May she wake in torment! " he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. "Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there–not in heaven–not perished–where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for...
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Unknown
What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life--to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each...
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George Eliot
More Quotes By A.P. Sweet
I cry often. I cry and cleanse my face with my tears and swim to the center of it all. A center that I have written about a thousand times, forever etched into the porcelain.
I wrote because of their inability to nurture me. I wrote to conceal the truth that life was filled with pain and that true beauty could only come from that pain. I wrote to simply disguise that pain.
I kiss the soil as if it is the last time I will recognize the beauty she has given the trees.
Sometimes at night when the moon is almost full and my hands go numb from writing, I cleanse myself of her poisoned love. I welcome the water, the inevitability of death and embrace the long painful road out of love.
