musings of the night before

Conscience can be a person's greatest tool, or their biggest obstacle.

Having a home means having a full bookshelf.

The dead flowers mingle in the smooth glass vase, just like the love of their givers in my heart.

Is there a chance you might change your mind, or are we ashes and wine?

The man's face on the wall is not sad, just wise and complacent and reluctant.

Butterflies in a tumult—like this—happen rarely and only for the greatest and more important possibilities.

Jewels mean so little. A hand or a heart holds far more meaning.

One who would make you willing to compromise more than ever before may only be dangerous.

He grew just the way he should have, just the way he needed to, just the right way for a tree like him.

The world is only ready to be tackled and adored and found and touched and needed by me.

Passion doesn't always come easily. But it comes with work and patient and time, and in the small ways is unearthed and released at it's full potential.

I would rather learn what it feels like to burn, than feel nothing at all.