Lilac Bb Reid Quotes

I wanted them all equally, but I craved them for different reasons. Houston challenged me, Loren worshiped me, and Rich made me feel like I was worthy of redemption.

The cracks were there, but I was no longer afraid of them. Instead, they served as a reminder that love wasn’t meant to be a pristine affair. It was meant to be messy and meant to hurt, but it would always mend if it’s true.

Sometimes pissing off the people you love is how you do them the most good in the end.

And there lies the problem with our inherited human nature. We only bothered to take care of one another when it was too goddamn late.

The problem with glass was that it shattered under pressure.

Pain isn’t singular. We’re not alone, no matter how much it seems that way. Someone out there feels it too, and if we ever meet, we could bring our broken pieces together. We could bind them and form one heart.” He looked into her brown eyes. “We could be Bound.

I didn’t like anyone seeing what was mine unless his name was Houston Morrow or Loren James.

This is not a date. I didn’t agree to that.” “Then call it a pregame to fucking. Feel better?

I liked to be in my head where I felt at home amongst my own chaos.

Learn the words, survive the tour, and then we’ll talk. In the meantime, sign this.

I could never have all three of them. I didn’t factor in Loren’s volatility, Houston’s mistrust, and the secrets Rich was apparently keeping.

Love isn’t an illusion that requires silence to maintain. It only needs our memory of what it was like without each other.

Because his touch felt like finding home, and I was too easily won.

In the age of social media, you weren’t angry or grieving unless you posted about it online. Our instincts dictated we run to strangers on the internet the moment we experience pain, to tell the world how deeply gutted we are over the loss of our loved ones—as if the multitude of absentminded apologies and offers of prayers would actually mend the rip.

This world is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and the people in it would rather you be miserable as long as they’re comfortable. Why not carve out our own piece and be free to love how we choose?

Lose Yourself—Eminem Monsters—Shinedown Dear God—XTC Down with the Sickness—Disturbed Love and War—Fleurie Headstrong—Trapt I Want It That Way—Backstreet Boys Sober—Tool Angels Fall—Breaking Benjamin Black is the Soul—Korn Polyamorous—Breaking Benjamin Best Thing I Never Had—Beyoncé Bed of Lies—Nicki Minaj ft Skylar Grey Apologize—Timbaland ft OneRepublic Spastik—Plastikman Basiel—Amelie Lens Oh Bondage! Up Yours!—X Ray Spex Open Your Eyes—Disturbed Bring Me to Life—Evanescence So What—Pink Light My Fire—The Doors

Love isn't an illusion that requires silence to maintain. It only needs out memory of what it was like without each other.

Lilac. Love smells like lilac. Love is lilac. My head may have forgotten that field, but my heart hadn’t. It had been trying to tell me all along. I’d found my haven all over again in three broken rock gods. When the world wrote off my pain, I could run to them and forget. They’d be my shelter, my peace, and my solace. I could sing, I could sleep, I could laugh, I could cry. In their arms, I could just be. All I needed to know was why they weren’t here now.

My grandmother had always warned me to appreciate the tortoise because I’d be up against the hare one day.

No. But I also don’t know if I won’t be hit by a bus the next time I walk outside. I can’t let an unknown tomorrow stop me from living today.

I was the air he needed to breathe, and he was mine.

I knew it was him because I recognized his nipple of all things.

Well, I see you, Houston, and maybe that scares you. If you want me to quit, you’re going to have to try harder than being an asshole who thinks too highly of himself. If you’re scared, get a nightlight, bitch. I’m not going anywhere.

In the age of social media, you weren’t angry or grieving unless you posted about it online. Our instincts dictated we run to strangers on the internet the moment we experience pain, to tell the world how deeply gutted we are over the loss of our loved ones—as if the multitude of absentminded apologies and offers of prayers would actually mend the rip

In the age of social media, you weren’t angry or grieving unless you posted about it online. Our instincts dictated we run to strangers on the internet the moment we experience pain, to tell the world how deeply gutted we are over the loss of our loved ones—as if the multitude of absentminded apologies and offers of prayers would actually mend the rip. Calvin Everill’s bandmates, on the other hand, had no comment. Not a single goddamn word. And so the world forgot their grief for intrigue. Just like that.

I’d been too quiet for too long. Because I liked to be in my head where I felt at home amongst my own chaos.

Jericho, swaddled in a navy blue hoodie and toying with his lip ring as his dark hair pressed against his forehead