He was the closest thing I'd ever had to something, or someone, that mattered. But in the end, close didn't count. You were either in, or you weren't.
It didn't matter how big our house was; it mattered that there was love in it.
It was the only way he knew to protect the court, the faery, and the only mortal who'd ever mattered to him.
I had a very well-respected writer ask me point blank to my face whether it actually mattered to me. Now, without wanting to reach out and just strangle him or send a few F-bombs his way, I just bit my tongue, told him he offended me and walked away.
Thank goodness for the first snow, it was a reminder--no matter how old you became and how much you'd seen, things could still be new if you were willing to believe they still mattered.
It wouldn't have mattered to my mother if I married a black, was gay, lived in a commune or wore a dress.
I was popular at some times and not so popular at other times. But what mattered was trying to solve problems and deal with circumstances. Some of which I was able to anticipate. Some of which caught us totally by surprise.
Busy does not equal important. Measured doesn't mean mattered.
Everything mattered and nothing did, and I was tired of trying to find out how both of those things were true. I was an itch that I'd scratched so hard I was bleeding. I had set out to do the impossible, whatever the impossible might be, only to find out that it was living with myself. Suicide became an expiration date, the day after which I no longer had to try.
So often we try to make other people feel better by minimizing their pain, by telling them that it will get better (which it will) or that there are worse things in the world (which there are). But that's not what I actually needed. What I actually needed was for someone to tell me that it hurt because it mattered. I have found this very useful to think about over the years, and I find that it is a lot easier and more bearable to be sad when you aren't constantly berating yourself for being sad.
There's so many things that mattered so much in my 20s and 30s that don't matter now.
It hurts because it mattered.
She grew more and more silent about what really mattered. She curled inside herself like one of those black chimney brushes, the little shellfish you see on the beach, and you touch them, and then go inside and don’t come out.
In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you.
He dreamed of London and of a life that mattered.
Leaving feels good and pure only when you leave something important, something that mattered to you. Pulling life out by the roots. But you can't do that until your life has grown roots.
It has never mattered to me that thirty million people might think I'm wrong. The number of people who thought Hitler was right did not make him right. . . Why do you necessarily have to be wrong just because a few million people think you are?
Truth is I thought it mattered. I thought that music mattered. But does it? Bollocks! Not compared to how people matter.
Nothing really mattered, and nothing could be lost.
He couldn't undo the past, nor could he know how he had already altered the future. But that didn't matter. What he really cared about was captured in the warmth of their interlaced fingers. What mattered was the life the two of them made together now.