I always screw things up. Either I’m too forward, show my pain too soon, not enough interests or something.
If I’m not with somebody who really excites or inspires me, then I’d rather be by myself.
She longed to know what at that moment was passing in his mind; in what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of everything, she was still dear to him.
The only adventure i ever hope to go on is my own.
I have lost and loved and won and cried myself to the person I am today.