People often associate raves with drugs, but for me raves are more associated with self-expression.
My heart and my trust were in the process of collapsing. And that collapse created a vacuum in my chest.
One little ripple started today could create a typhoon fifteen years from now.
I simply wanted a kiss. I was a freshman girl who had never been kissed. Never. But I liked the boy, he liked me, and I was going to kiss him. That's the story, the whole story, right there.
I didn't feel physically sick. But mentally. My mind was twisting in so many ways. (. . . ) We once saw a documentary on migraines. One of the men interviewed used to fall on his knees and bang his head against the floor, over and over during attacks. This diverted the pain from deep inside his brain, where he couldn't reach it, to a pain outside that he had control over.
I decided to find out how people at school might react if one of the students never came back.
That's what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you're not sure what the poet's talking about. You may have an idea, but you can't be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings.
Every woman should have a daughter to tell her stories to. Otherwise, the lessons learned are as useless as spare buttons from a discarded shirt. And all that is left is a fading name and the shape of a nose or the color of hair. The men who write the history books will tell you the stories of battles and conquests. But the women will tell you the stories of people's hearts.
I'm one of those people who doesn't really know what he thinks until he writes it down.
A low morality will not sustain leadership long, its influence quickly vanishes, it cannot produce its own succession.
People seem to fight about things very unsuitable for fighting. They make a frightful noise in support of very quiet things. They knock each other about in the name of very fragile things.